


Spirit Touched

by The Last Speecher (HeidiMelone)



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Zuko is an Awkward Turtleduck, Zuko is baby, Zuko needs supervision and by gum he will get it, dadkoda
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:20:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 25,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25059874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeidiMelone/pseuds/The%20Last%20Speecher
Summary: Zuko was pulled out of the ocean by Hakoda's crew.  Over time, he grew on the Southern Water Tribe warriors, and they grew on him.  After Hakoda requested guidance from the spirits, to help this troubled teenager, the spirits intervened...but not in the way Hakoda expected.(Takes place following the end of Chapter 8 of Salvage)
Relationships: Hakoda & Zuko (Avatar), Zuko & The Southern Water Tribe
Comments: 285
Kudos: 2315
Collections: The Best of Avatar the Last Airbender





	1. Little Prince

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Salvage](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21116591) by [MuffinLance](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MuffinLance/pseuds/MuffinLance). 



> This was inspired by a [fanart](https://agent-jaselin.tumblr.com/post/622546924298485760/in-which-zuko-is-somehow-more-annoying-when) which was itself inspired by the amazing fic "Salvage". I posted it on [Tumblr](https://thelastspeecher.tumblr.com/post/622662475252465664/shrunken-salvage) originally, but decided to also post it here.

Praying to the spirits for guidance was a mistake. Hakoda could see that now. He pinched the bridge of his nose in a vain attempt to dispel the headache already forming.

_This is what I get for thinking the spirits might make things easier. Their actions are rarely convenient for us mortals._

“Bring him to Kustaa,” Hakoda said after a moment. Toklo nodded and hurried for the healer’s room, his friend in his arms, buried in a pile of furs. Bato looked at Hakoda. He raised an eyebrow silently.

“That’s new,” he said. The casual tone made Hakoda’s headache pound in full force. Bato was treating this as just another matter of fact. Like seeing the former Prince of the Fire Nation reduced to a toddler overnight was just as common as…

Hakoda’s head hurt too much to even think of something that was common.

“Yes,” Hakoda finally said. “It is new.” He was struggling to align the grumpy teenager of yesterday with the toddler he’d just seen drooling in his sleep.

“How could this have happened?” Bato asked quietly.

“I asked the spirits for help last night.” Hakoda scowled. It was help he’d desperately needed, after Zuko had broken down in front of him and renounced his crown, maybe even renounced his own nation. And it was help he was obviously not getting. “Apparently, they didn’t want to make things easier.”

“The spirits work in mysterious ways,” Bato said. “It’s best to trust in their judgement. Eventually, you’ll understand why they’ve done…this.” Hakoda eyed his second-in-command.

“Since when are you so spiritual?”

“Since meeting the bridge between the spirit world and ours,” Bato said flatly.

“Fair enough.” Hakoda sighed. “I should go speak with Kustaa.”

“I might be best if you were there when the little prince woke up,” Bato agreed. He thumped Hakoda on the back. “At least you’re good with children!”

* * *

Unlike every other day since he’d recovered from his illness, Zuko didn’t wake up with the sun. If he didn’t remember how much his own children slept at this age, Hakoda would have been concerned. He sat in the infirmary, having a hushed conversation with Kustaa while Zuko continued to snore. The sight of a toddler swimming in furs was painfully cute and reminded Hakoda of when Sokka was young.

“I’ll be able to get a better examination done once he’s awake,” Kustaa said in a low voice. “But from what I can tell, he’s perfectly healthy.”

“He’s a toddler,” Hakoda said.

“A healthy one.” Kustaa glanced at Zuko. “By my estimation, about four years old. So, almost out of the toddler years.” Zuko rolled over in his sleep, mumbling something. Kustaa and Hakoda held their breaths. Zuko didn’t wake up. “From what he’s told me, he didn’t get that scar until a few years ago, so I’m not completely sure why he still has it.”

“The spirits are testing me,” Hakoda moaned. Kustaa chuckled.

“No, Chief. The spirits are testing all of us with this stunt.” He sighed and leaned back. “Now would be a good time to have a waterbending healer, to examine his spirit and chi. But the odds of finding one of those…”

“Aren’t good unless we stumble across a Northern Tribe ship,” Hakoda said, finishing the healer’s sentence. Kustaa nodded. There was movement from Zuko’s pile of furs. Hakoda and Kustaa looked over. A small hand fought its way out, followed by a head. Zuko’s regular scowl was replaced by confusion as he stared at Hakoda and Kustaa, who most likely seemed larger to him than they had yesterday.

“You’re up,” Kustaa said calmly. Zuko shoved away the furs he was buried in. His eyes widened at the sight of his body. Hakoda grimaced.

There was a split second of dumbfounded silence before the screaming started.

* * *

Kustaa wasn’t sure whether he preferred Zuko like this or not. On the one hand, it would be difficult to run the ship with a literal toddler on board. But on the other hand, it was much easier to handle Zuko. He could literally be picked up and carried somewhere else if needed.

“This doesn’t fit right!” Zuko whined. Kustaa glanced over at his young charge. Zuko had insisted on dressing himself in the smallest shirt they could find on the ship. That smallest shirt came down to past his feet.

_Then again, so will everything else._ Kustaa beckoned Zuko to come. Zuko scowled but walked over. Kustaa fought back an amused grin at the firebender’s toddling gait. While not as severe as it would be for someone younger, it was still evident.

“Nothing is going to fit right until either we adjust clothes to fit you or purchase ones already in your size,” Kustaa said. He adjusted the shirt as best he could by pinning it up and wrapping rope around Zuko’s waist to act as a belt. “Now that you’re dressed, we need to go see the chief.” Zuko’s eyes went wide in horror.

“No! I’m not going outside like this.”

“Everyone knows what’s happened to you,” Kustaa said, getting to his feet. He took Zuko’s hand. It was small and warm. “Most of them saw you already, and the rest were informed by either the chief or Bato.”

“…Fine,” Zuko grumbled. Kustaa led him out onto the deck. The moment eyes landed on him, Zuko dropped Kustaa’s hand to hide behind his legs.

“Wow, you’re barely older than the babes we left at the South Pole,” Panuk remarked. Zuko didn’t move or speak.

“ _I_ think he’s adorable,” Toklo said firmly, marching over. He crouched down to Zuko’s eye-height. “I always wanted a baby brother.”

“I’m _not_ a baby,” Zuko snapped. At his high-pitched, youthful voice, Toklo beamed. “I’m sixteen.”

“Four,” Kustaa corrected. Zuko scowled.

“Either way, that’s not a _baby_.”

“Aw, no need to pout,” Toklo cooed. Zuko’s scowl deepened. “It’ll be fun having a little kid on board.”

“Will it?” rumbled Aake. “We only let men join the crew for a reason.” Zuko let out a small squeak as Toklo lifted him up and held him out for Aake to see.

“Try saying ‘no’ to this face,” Toklo said. Aake’s deadpan expression didn’t change.

“No.”

“Were you saying ‘no’ to Zuko or ‘no’ to saying ‘no’ to him?” Toklo asked. Aake shrugged and continued to sharpen his spear. Zuko squirmed in Toklo’s hold.

“Let me go!” he snarled. He broke loose, falling to the deck with a soft thump. Kustaa waited for the tears that would come from a toddler being dropped. But Zuko didn’t cry. His eyes were glistening in a way that suggested he was holding back tears, but he remained otherwise stoic. Kustaa filed this observation away for now. He walked over to Zuko and pulled him up.

“The chief needs to talk to you, remember?” he said. Zuko nodded silently, allowing Kustaa to lead him to Hakoda’s cabin.

* * *

The moment they set foot inside the cabin, Kustaa could tell Hakoda was going to struggle with not seeing Sokka every time he looked at Zuko. At least Bato was there to help mediate things.

“Take a seat,” Hakoda said. Zuko toddled over to the chair he normally sat in. After a moment, he climbed onto the seat with obvious difficulty. Bato stifled a laugh. “Zuko, we’re not sure why the spirits have done this to you.”

“Probably because they hate me,” Zuko muttered, crossing his arms.

“Well, no matter why you’ve been turned into a toddler, the fact of the matter is that it has happened to you. Generally, we don’t allow children your age to be on our ships.” Zuko paled and opened his mouth to make his case. Hakoda held up a hand. “Given your…extenuating circumstances, we won’t be dropping you off at the next port or something like that. Who knows, maybe you’ll wake up tomorrow sixteen again. Until we have a better understanding of your condition, including how long it might last, you’ll be staying on the _Akhlut_. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” Zuko said with a nod, visibly relieved.

“Good. Now, just because you’ll still be on board, don’t expect things to stay the same for you. You won’t be required to do any chores on the ship. If you want to help, you can, but the crew has been instructed to stop you from overexerting yourself or doing something that might hurt you at your current age.” Zuko’s eyes boggled. “Additionally, you’ll be sleeping in the infirmary with Kustaa for the foreseeable future. It will be more comfortable for you.”

“Understood,” Zuko mumbled.

“Another change is that you will be expected to do what a child your age must in order to remain healthy,” Hakoda said. Zuko tilted his head curiously. “In particular, you will have to take naps.”

“What?!” Zuko shrieked.

“We can’t have a cranky, overtired firebender on our wooden ship,” Bato said. Zuko crossed his arms, scowling.

“Those are the major changes. We will adjust things as we see fit,” Hakoda said.

“Okay.” Zuko fidgeted in his seat, an abrupt reminder to the men in the room of how hyperactive toddlers were. “Um, about my clothes…”

“Go see Panuk and Toklo. They offered to try to cobble together something for you until we can make port,” Hakoda said. Zuko ducked his head.

“Thank you.” He slipped off his chair and left the cabin, his head held high in an attempt to maintain any dignity. Once the door closed, Kustaa looked at Hakoda and Bato.

“He’s not going to act like a toddler if he can avoid it,” Kustaa said. “He’s almost certainly going to resist the reduced workload and naps.” Hakoda nodded.

“I agree,” he said solemnly.

“This won’t end well,” Bato said, shaking his head. “There’s a reason we wouldn’t normally have someone his age on board.” There was a loud ruckus from the deck; clattering, heavy footsteps, and Toklo’s voice.

“Come on, Zuko, it’ll look _so cute_!”

“That,” Bato said, “is the reason.”

* * *

Hakoda begrudgingly agreed with Toklo’s assessment. Zuko was cuter than he had any right looking, walking around the ship with a blanket draped over his shoulders like a cape. According to Toklo, Zuko had begun shivering while he and Panuk were working on finding something for the new toddler to wear. Toddlers tended to get cold easier, and Hakoda supposed that being a firebender might make Zuko more vulnerable to cold as is.

“Are you hungry yet, little prince?” Panuk asked. Zuko looked up from his fumbling attempts at making a net.

“Don’t call me that,” he snarled. Panuk patted Zuko’s bald head.

“All right. You hungry yet, Zuko?” he asked. Zuko’s stomach rumbled loudly. “I’ll take that as a yes.” Panuk got up. “Come on. Let’s fill you up with sea prunes.” Zuko got to his feet and eagerly followed Panuk. Hakoda watched Zuko toddle across the deck and to the kitchen.

“You’re getting soft, Chief, I can tell,” Aake, standing nearby, said quietly. Hakoda looked at him. Aake sighed. “But I’m getting soft, too. We left when Sitka was about that age.” A weary and wistful expression settled on Aake’s face. “I miss my son.”

“I miss mine as well,” Hakoda said quietly. Suddenly, Zuko burst onto the deck, his arms full of sea prunes, running from Panuk.

“Hey! You don’t get all of them!” Panuk protested, coming onto the deck as well. Zuko merely sped up. Hakoda and Aake’s eyes widened as they realized the former Fire Nation Prince was _giggling_ as Panuk chased him. Zuko’s lighthearted, childish peals of laughter filled the air. He rushed belowdeck, his blanket still wrapped around his shoulders. Panuk followed. A silence fell. After a moment, Tuluk, who was swabbing the deck, spoke.

“Well, that was _adorable_.”

* * *

Hakoda expected Zuko to hide belowdeck, embarrassed by behaving like a toddler. But Zuko returned to the deck after a while, seemingly unaware of how childish he had acted. He walked up to various crewmen in an attempt to do some of his old chores. Each time, he was turned away. His regular scowl settled on his face, chubby with baby fat.

“Can’t do anything,” Zuko muttered as he stalked around the deck, his blanket trailing behind him. He finally sat down next to the mast, pouting.

“It’s good that you can’t do anything,” Hakoda said, walking over. Zuko looked up. “Leaving a task in the middle of doing it doesn’t usually produce good results.”

“Why would I not complete a task?” Zuko asked. He crossed his arms. “I’m not _really_ a child, I can focus.”

“You’d need to take a break for your nap,” Hakoda informed him. Zuko’s eyes widened. “I saw you yawning just now. You’re tired.”

“No, I’m not!” Zuko said, jumping to his feet. He shed his blanket cape. “I won’t nap.”

“You agreed to take naps.”

“Only if I needed them. I don’t. I’m not tired.” Zuko’s argument sounded eerily like those Sokka made as a child.

“There’s nothing for you to do anyways,” Hakoda pointed out. He reached for Zuko’s hand. Zuko darted away before he could be grabbed. Unfortunately for his millionth escape attempt, Aake was nearby. Aake picked Zuko up as he ran past.

“Let me go!” Zuko said, twisting in Aake’s grip. “Let me go!” A breath of flame escaped from his mouth. He suddenly stilled. Aake handed him over to Hakoda. Zuko didn’t make a peep as Hakoda carried him across the deck and into the infirmary. Kustaa looked up from the book he was reading.

“Is it time for my nephew’s nap?” he asked. Hakoda nodded and set Zuko down.

“Sleep,” he said firmly to Zuko. “That’s an order.” Zuko nodded, visibly cowed.

“Yes, chief,” he mumbled. Hakoda turned to leave. “Sir, I apologize for firebending earlier,” Zuko said suddenly. Hakoda looked over his shoulder at the toddler.

“You firebending on accident wouldn’t have anything to do with agreeing to nap, would it?” he asked.

“Uncle says that sleep works in concert with meditation to control your inner fire. Children who are too young to know how to meditate only avoid burning down their house by taking…naps.” Zuko scowled slightly. “That’s the excuse he gives for being so lazy.” Kustaa chuckled softly.

“Judging by what happened on deck, your uncle might be right,” Hakoda said, feigning a casual tone. Zuko nodded. “Sleep well, Zuko.”

Hakoda poked his head into the infirmary after he had checked on the rest of the crewmen. Some of the crew felt Zuko’s current size was an improvement. Hakoda could see where they were coming from. Zuko was yet again buried in a pile of furs, his minute arms wrapped around Scuttles.

“He went down almost right after you left, chief,” Kustaa said quietly. “I didn’t even need to make him any tea.”

“Hopefully he won’t argue against naps in the future.” Hakoda continued to watch Zuko sleep. The toddler let out a soft snore. “It’s foolish to expect that he’ll ask for a nap, though.” Kustaa nodded.

“I would agree with that.” Zuko rolled over in his sleep with another snore.

“Let me know if anything happens,” Hakoda said.

“Of course,” Kustaa said. He picked up another book, opened it, and began to read. Hakoda left the infirmary, closing the door behind him as softly as he could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have quite a bit more for this written out, but since Salvage is still in-progress, I might wait until the next chapter is posted to post what I have. Just to keep things as in line with the OG as possible, y'know? But I also might get impatient and decide to post more before then.
> 
> As always, if you have any questions or comments, leave them below or message me at thelastspeecher.tumblr.com.


	2. Nuktuk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My pal [agent-jaselin](https://agent-jaselin.tumblr.com/) made [some art](https://agent-jaselin.tumblr.com/post/623011400134049792/zuko-doesnt-like-shopping-trips-he-likes-it-even) inspired by this fic, go check it (and them) out! It's adorable.

Zuko stood on the deck and breathed in deeply. The salty ocean air filled his lungs, bringing up the memories of the years he’d spent at sea, making him forget for a moment the cursed situation he was now in. He was forcibly reminded of his circumstances when he stepped forward and tripped over the still too long shirt he was wearing.

“Don’t worry, little prince,” Panuk said, “we’re going ashore today to get you some clothing.” Zuko got up into a sitting position. He crossed his arms.

“Great. More people to see me in this state.”

“Don’t worry, Nuktuk, no one’s going to think you’re anything but a regular toddler,” Toklo said, walking over to Zuko and picking him up.

“ _Don’t_ pick me up without asking first- wait, what did you call me?”

“Nuktuk. Isn’t it cute? It’s the name my parents almost gave me.”

“Why are you calling me by a Water Tribe name?” Zuko sighed. Toklo ruffled his hair, which had grown into a soft layer of black fuzz.

“Because as far as anyone in this town is concerned, you’re Water Tribe,” Hakoda said, walking over. “Specifically, a member of the Water Tribe named Nuktuk.”

“Why?” Zuko asked. To his chagrin, it came out as a whine, something that had been happening more and more often lately.

“A toddler on a Water Tribe ship won’t attract attention if that toddler is Water Tribe. It _will_ attract attention if that toddler is Fire Nation,” Hakoda said. He took Zuko from Toklo. “You’ll be coming with me to get clothes.”

“Why do I even need to come ashore?” Zuko muttered.

“If I’m getting you clothes, I need to make sure they fit,” Hakoda said shortly, already marching off the ship, Zuko grumbling wordlessly in his arms.

* * *

“He can wear that out,” the shopkeeper said to Hakoda. The shopkeeper nodded at Zuko standing nearby in typical green and brown Earth Kingdom clothes. “I saw what he was wearing when you brought him in.”

“Yeah, Nuktuk here tossed all his clothes overboard when no one was watching him.” Hakoda looked at Zuko. “What was the reasoning you gave for that, again?” Zuko crossed his arms and looked away, his mind racing. What would a child say?

“…I don’t know,” he finally mumbled, failing to come up with something. The shopkeeper chuckled.

“What a classic kid response. ‘I don’t know.’”

Apparently, that was the right answer.

“Thanks,” Hakoda said to the shopkeeper after he purchased Zuko’s new clothes. “Come on, Nuktuk.” Zuko followed Hakoda out of the store. Hakoda looked down at Zuko thoughtfully.

“…What?” Zuko asked.

“When Sokka and Katara were your age, they liked riding on my shoulders,” Hakoda remarked. Zuko scowled.

“I’m sixteen.”

“You’re four.”

“Hmph.” Zuko looked away. “…Are you offering to let me ride on your shoulders?” he asked after a moment.

“If you want,” Hakoda said with a shrug. Zuko’s desire to maintain dignity and his childish urges battled. The childish urges won out.

“…Yes,” he said quietly.

“All right.” Hakoda lifted Zuko and placed him on his shoulders. “Hold on.” Zuko grabbed fistfuls of Hakoda’s shirt. Hakoda began to walk.

From his vantage point on Hakoda’s shoulders, Zuko could see more than he had since the spirits cursed him like this. Actually, he could see more than he could even before he was cursed. It was refreshing to be able to see more than peoples’ legs. They walked past a young woman outside a flower shop.

“Sir?” the woman called. Hakoda stopped and turned to look at her. “Your son is very cute.” Zuko turned red. Hakoda chuckled.

“Thanks. All his mom.” The woman chuckled as well. Hakoda continued to walk.

They spotted Kustaa just as he was leaving an apothecary. Kustaa raised a silent eyebrow at the sight of Zuko on Hakoda’s shoulders. Zuko blushed again.

“Let me down,” he instructed Hakoda. Hakoda didn’t do anything. Zuko sighed. “Please.”

“Well, since you said the magic word…” Hakoda removed Zuko from his shoulders and set him on the ground.

“That was a wise move,” Kustaa said. “The town square is just over there, and you’d hate for anyone else on the crew to see you riding the Chief’s shoulders.”

“Hey, Nuktuk!” Toklo’s voice called. The men and Zuko looked over. Toklo stood in the square, waving something Zuko immediately recognized. “I got you those fire flakes you like!” Before the words had even left Toklo’s mouth, Zuko was running over. He bumped into someone, mumbled an apology, and kept running. Once he got to Toklo, he jumped up, trying to get the fire flakes from him. However, Toklo held them just out of reach.

“Don’t run off like that,” Hakoda scolded as he finally caught up to Zuko. Zuko ignored him in favor of continuing his attempts to get the fire flakes. Kustaa joined them as well.

“We should leave,” Kustaa said softly to Hakoda. “The men Zuko just bumped into were Fire Nation. They were out of uniform, but it was obvious what they were.”

“Thank you for letting me know,” Hakoda replied quietly. He raised his voice. “Toklo, stop playing keep away. You and Kustaa take Nuktuk back to the ship. I’ll wait for the others.”

“Why?” Zuko asked. He grabbed the fire flakes from Toklo and began to stuff them into his mouth happily.

“You’re going to have to take a nap soon,” Hakoda reminded him. Zuko scowled. Kustaa took Zuko’s hand and led him out of the square. Toklo trailed after them. Hakoda looked around, but didn’t spot the men Zuko had run into. He let out a sigh of relief as he sat on a rock to wait for the rest of the crew.

_It’s a good thing Zuko didn’t attract any attention from the Fire Nation men. Who knows who they were, and what they would have done if they’d gotten a good look at him._

* * *

“You see, Lieutenant Jee, when we enter the village not wearing our uniforms, we are treated much better,” Iroh said as they exited the tea shop with bags of blends recommended by the owner.

“Yes, you’re right,” Jee said with a slight nod. Like the rest of the crew of the _Wani_ , he was treating Iroh gently after the loss of Zuko.

“Hey, Nuktuk!” a voice called. Iroh and Jee looked over. A young man, Water Tribe, judging by his appearance, stood in the town square with bags of food. The man waved a container of something that every Fire Nation child would recognize. “I got you those fire flakes you like!”

Promptly, a young boy, on the cusp of being called a child rather than a toddler, raced past Iroh and Jee, knocking into Iroh. A man rushed after the boy, who was presumably Nuktuk. Another man stopped in front of Iroh and Jee and smiled apologetically.

“Sorry that he ran into you. My nephew can be excitable,” the man said. Iroh chuckled.

“No need to apologize! My nephew was the same at that age,” he said jovially. The man inclined his head slightly and joined the rest of his companions in the square. All except Nuktuk were dressed in traditional Water Tribe attire.

“Rare to see Water Tribe around here,” Jee said softly. Iroh waved a hand.

“Leave them be. They’re clearly a family, probably refugees. Look at them.” The young man that had purchased fire flakes was holding them just out of reach of Nuktuk, making the boy jump for them. Iroh smiled. “They aren’t doing any harm.”

“Yes, sir,” Jee said. Iroh watched Nuktuk thoughtfully. “Sir?”

“That young boy…he’s been touched by the spirits.”

“How- how can you tell?”

“It sticks out all over him,” Iroh said, as if that answer made complete sense. He sighed. “It’s kind of the spirits to bless someone like him.”

“…A war bastard half-breed?” Jee asked. Even from this distance, it was obvious Nuktuk’s skin was too pale, his hair too dark, to be full Water Tribe. Iroh frowned at Jee.

“Yes. But perhaps it would be better to use kinder words when talking about a child,” he said firmly. Jee merely nodded in response. “We should board. We can’t keep Zhao waiting any longer.” The two men walked away, Iroh glancing at Nuktuk every now and then, his heart heavy with memories of Zuko and Lu Ten.

* * *

Hakoda knew a toddler bursting with energy when he saw one. Usually, said toddler wouldn’t hesitate to expend that energy. But most toddlers weren’t teenagers two weeks ago.

“You look like you could use a chance to stretch your legs,” he remarked. Zuko, who had been fidgeting nonstop since breakfast, looked up. Once again, he had been assigned to work on nets with Tuluk, as that was the easiest chore for the former teenager, current toddler.

“I’m fine,” Zuko said. He wiggled in his seat, seemingly without realizing it. Tuluk poorly stifled a laugh. Zuko scowled at him. The trademark glare had been taking a gradual decline in efficacy for some time before the spirits intervened. Now that Zuko was a child, the expression only made him cuter.

“You’re more jittery than a polar bear-dog with new pups,” Hakoda said. Zuko wiggled again. “Luckily, you can run off some of that energy when we dock.”

“I’m not going ashore as a child again. The first time was humiliating enough,” Zuko muttered to his feeble netting knots. Hakoda sighed and sat next to him.

“Your current rules include doing what is necessary for someone your age. It’s not healthy to force a four-year-old to sit still for hours on end.”

“It’s a good thing I’m not being forced, then.”

“Are you sure?” Hakoda asked. Zuko eyed him.

“No one told me to sit still.”

“You did.” Zuko dropped his netting and cocked his head curiously. It was an expression to be expected from a toddler who didn’t understand how the world worked. It was less expected from Zuko, whose youthful appearance masked sixteen years of experience. “You’re forcing yourself to sit still.”

“But-”

“I admit, this is the first time I’ve seen a toddler task themselves with behaving so well,” Hakoda continued. “What I said still applies, however. Your body wants to run around, but you’re holding yourself in check.” Zuko picked up his netting again. He played with it.

“There’s not much room for running around on a boat, anyways,” he mumbled.

“Which is why you’re coming ashore.” Zuko scowled. “That’s an order.”

“…Yes, Chief.”

In Hakoda’s experience, a toddler forced to stay still for too long would release the pent-up energy in a potentially damaging way. The likelihood of something breaking went up drastically if that toddler was a bender. Hopefully, by letting Zuko run off the energy on land, they could avoid any firebending outbursts on their very flammable ship.

* * *

A few hours later, the _Akhlut_ docked. Under normal circumstances, they would wait longer in between stopping at ports. But as Hakoda watched Zuko toddle down the gangplank, he couldn’t ignore how painfully abnormal the current circumstances were.

“Are you coming?” Zuko asked once he was on solid ground. Hakoda was once again reminded of his own children; that might as well have come from Katara when she was four. He followed Zuko ashore. Zuko crossed his arms. “Now what?”

“Now we find an open place where you can run around,” Hakoda said, heading for the beach.

“How long am I expected to ‘run around’?”

“Generally speaking, children your age only stop when they use up all their energy and literally collapse.” Hakoda glanced at Zuko. “Given your situation, however, I’ll be fine with leaving once I notice you slowing down.” Zuko nodded reluctantly.

“Is anyone else coming?” he asked.

“No. We’re near General Fong’s base. He’s not that pleased with us, so I’m keeping the number of crew who might be spotted by his men to a minimum.”

“Not even Healer Kustaa?” Zuko asked. Disappointment shone in his voice.

“You’ll get to see him soon enough, don’t worry,” Hakoda replied. Zuko pouted. They continued their walk in silence.

They hadn’t been walking long when Hakoda began to pick up on the faint sound of children playing. He looked at Zuko out of the corner of his eye. Judging by how white his already pale skin had become, the firebender heard as well. They turned a corner.

“This looks like a good place,” Hakoda said. They had arrived at a slightly secluded cove filled with young children and mothers. The children, ranging from infants to a few years older than Zuko, chased each other across the sand, playing games Hakoda remembered from his own childhood.

“Good?” Zuko hissed, clearly scandalized. “There’s- there’s _children_ here!”

“Yes, and you are one of them.” Hakoda put a hand on Zuko’s back. He gently pushed the boy forward. “Go play with your peers.”

“They’re not my-” A girl about Zuko’s age ran past, tapping Zuko on the shoulder.

“Tag!” she shouted. Zuko stared after her dumbly.

“Aren’t you going to play tag?” Hakoda prompted. Zuko looked down at his feet. “Do you know what tag is?”

“…No.”

“It’s a chasing game. Whoever is ‘it’ tries to touch someone. If they touch someone, that new person is ‘it’.”

“Oh.” Zuko remained where he stood. The girl that tagged him came back over.

“Are you gonna play?” she asked. Zuko opened and closed his mouth silently.

“Yes, he will,” Hakoda interjected. “But he’s a bit shy and he’s never played tag before. Would you help him, please?” The girl beamed, showing off a gap-toothed smile.

“Yeah!” She looked at Zuko. “What’s your name?”

“Nuktuk,” Zuko mumbled. The girl giggled.

“That’s a funny name. C’mon, Nuktuk!” She grabbed Zuko’s hand and pulled him away from Hakoda, towards the energetic children.

Hakoda watched for a few minutes, ready to intervene if Zuko was too out of his element. But as he’d seen happen before, Zuko slipped into childish behaviors easily. Hakoda took a seat near the group of mothers keeping an eye their children, nodding politely at them before resuming watch of Zuko.

Watching the former Fire Prince run with the other toddlers, the dull headache Hakoda had since that morning began to fade. There was nothing to indicate that Zuko was different from his peers. All Hakoda saw was a young boy enjoying himself. The rare sight was enough to make him smile.

* * *

Zuko played for much longer than Hakoda expected. Most people had left the play area by the time the young firebender called it quits. Hakoda quickly got rid of his smile as Zuko trod over, rubbing his eyes.

“Done?” he asked. Zuko let out a yawn and nodded. “You looked like you had a good time out there.”

“Yeah,” Zuko mumbled sleepily.

“Maybe you should try to run around the deck every now and then?” Hakoda probed. Zuko yawned again. “It won’t be as fun as today, but it’s better than nothing. And we can’t just land whenever you need to blow off some steam.” Zuko merely nodded. “Would you like to ride on my shoulders back to the ship?”

“Yes, please, sir,” Zuko said. His voice was thick with sleep. Hakoda lifted the tired toddler, gently placing him on his shoulders. Zuko grabbed handfuls of his shirt and leaned against Hakoda’s neck and head. Hakoda headed for the way they came.

Quickly, Hakoda stopped trying to make conversation with Zuko during the walk back to the ship. All questions received significantly delayed single word answers. Just as he caught sight of the _Akhlut_ , Zuko began to snore. Hakoda chuckled. His buoyant mood vanished, however, as he neared the ship. Two Earth Kingdom soldiers stood by the gangplank, speaking with Bato.

“Is there a problem?” Hakoda asked upon arrival. The soldiers looked over at him, then at Zuko. Hakoda raised an eyebrow. “Well?”

“We were wondering why your ship was docked and didn’t seem to be picking up supplies,” the shorter of the two soldiers said.

“I was trying to explain to them that we didn’t need supplies,” Bato said. He frowned at the soldiers. “Which shouldn’t merit a visit from the Earth Kingdom Military.”

“You’re near an important base. We have to be careful with foreign ships,” the short soldier replied.

“Our ship is clearly from the Water Tribe,” Bato snapped.

“Fire Nation soldiers could have captured a Water Tribe ship,” the short soldier said with a shrug.

“No self-respecting Fire Nation soldier would pretend to be Water Tribe,” Hakoda scoffed. The four-year-old proof he was lying let out a loud snore. Hakoda removed Zuko from his shoulders, carefully, so as to not wake him up. “We had to stop so that Nuktuk could spend some time ashore. It’s not good for someone his age to be at sea nonstop.”

“Why do you have a half-breed child on your warship?” the taller soldier asked, speaking for the first time. Hakoda stiffened. Before he could respond, Bato came to “Nuktuk’s” defense.

“Don’t call him that,” Bato said shortly.

“He is, though. Anyone with half a brain could tell he’s part Fire Nation,” the tall soldier argued back.

“His parentage isn’t important,” Hakoda said, trying to keep a level tone. “Nuktuk is Water Tribe.” The soldiers exchanged doubtful looks. “To answer your question, he’s the lone survivor of his village. We stumbled across him as we left the South Pole.”

“Why haven’t you dropped him off somewhere?” the short soldier asked. “It’s not safe for a child to be aboard a warship.”

“We haven’t had a chance to visit a Water Tribe village since we picked him up.”

“The Earth Kingdom has plenty of orphanages,” the short soldier said.

“We wouldn’t leave a Water Tribe child in an Earth Kingdom orphanage,” Bato said. “He deserves to grow up among his people.”

“Should’ve left him in the Fire Nation, then,” the tall soldier muttered. Bato glared.

“Are you going to let us board our ship and leave?” Hakoda asked before things could continue to spiral. “Nuktuk needs to be put to bed.” The soldiers exchanged another look.

“Fine,” the short one sighed. The two soldiers walked away. Once they were out of earshot, Bato turned to Hakoda.

“What took you so long?”

“He had more energy than I thought,” Hakoda replied. Zuko shifted slightly in his arms. “He really needed this.”

“I can tell.” Bato went up the gangplank, Hakoda close behind. “Did the two of you enjoy yourselves?”

“Him more than me. Though it was entertaining to watch him learn common games.”

“You found some children his age?” Bato asked. Hakoda nodded.

“Other than not knowing what tag was, he fit right in with them, too.”

“Of course he didn’t know what tag was,” Bato muttered. Hakoda snorted. “What?”

“I can see right through you, Bato. You’re getting soft on Zuko, just like the rest of us.”

“…Maybe I am,” Bato conceded. “But if I am, it’s only because he reminds me of Sokka.” Bato’s eyes widened. “Oh! Speaking of Sokka, apparently the Avatar’s sky bison passed over the base not long ago, likely on their way to the North Pole.”

“Really?”

“Yes. The soldiers mentioned it while they were trying to strong-arm me.”

“At least they didn’t stop. I would hate to have missed them.”

“I don’t know about that,” Bato said after a moment. Hakoda eyed him. “How do you think we’d explain ‘Nuktuk’ to them?”

“The same way I explained it to the soldiers.”

“Katara and Sokka would see right through it.” Bato ruffled Zuko’s short, fuzzy hair. “Kid doesn’t know how to act like he’s Water Tribe. Or how to act like he’s a normal toddler.”

“Fair enough.” Hakoda and Bato came to a stop outside the infirmary. “Who knows how Zuko would react to seeing them, anyways?”

“Probably with his first temper tantrum.”

“Ugh. Don’t remind me he’s at that age,” Hakoda muttered. Bato let out a bark of laughter. “Tell the crew to cast off.”

“You got it.” Bato strolled away. Hakoda ducked inside the infirmary. Kustaa took the sleeping toddler from him.

“You really tired him out,” Kustaa remarked. “What did you do, practice hand-to-hand combat with him?”

“No. He just…ran around like a kid.” Kustaa looked at him inquisitively. “We found a group of children his age. After they taught him how to play their games, he played with them. It was like he was a normal toddler.”

“Hmm.” Kustaa set Zuko down in his pile of furs, then pulled out a scroll. He scribbled something on it. “I’m keeping a log of each time Zuko acts his current age.”

“Do you think that might help return him to normal, or at least figure out how the spirits did this to him?”

“It might,” Kustaa said with a shrug. He put the scroll away. “I’m trying to collect as much information as I can. Some of it might be helpful, most of it probably won’t be. But we’re in uncharted waters, Chief. I can’t risk deciding a piece of information wasn’t relevant enough to be noted. It might end up crucial.” Kustaa gently tucked Zuko in, covering him with the blanket he’d worn around the ship before getting better clothes. “Hopefully, we’ll come across a waterbending healer at some point.” The healer looked up, meeting Hakoda’s eyes squarely. “As far as I can tell, that’s the only way we might be able to return Zuko from a grumpy toddler to a grumpy teenager.”

“That’s the only way?”

“Well, there is the possibility that the spirits might decide to stop this test or punishment or whatever it is. But that’s a very slim chance.” Hakoda nodded.

“I’d agree with that. Tell him to find me when he wakes up. I’ll give him a new task to do until dinner.”

“Depending on how much you wore him out,” Kustaa said, “he might not wake up before then. But if he does, I’ll send him your way.”

Hakoda exited the infirmary, only to be promptly accosted by Toklo.

“Chief, did Zuko really play with a bunch of other kids?” Toklo asked, starry-eyed.

“Yes.”

“Aw, man! I wish I was there! I bet it was adorable.”

“…It was,” Hakoda said after a moment. Toklo groaned loudly. A weight settled in Hakoda’s stomach. With the chaos of Zuko being touched by the spirits, Hakoda hadn’t had time to tell Toklo about his brother. He hated to ruin Toklo’s good mood. But he couldn’t delay it any longer. “We need to talk,” he said softly, putting a hand on the young man’s shoulder.

“We do?”

“Yes. Come with me.”

* * *

Zuko sat next to the mast, his arms crossed, desperately trying to stay awake. He didn’t need to go to bed as early as the Chief kept forcing him to, and he was determined to prove it. His eyes drooped closed. When someone sat next to him, he snapped his eyes open again. He looked at the person joining him.

“Oh. Hello, Toklo.” Toklo nodded. He was visibly shaken. Zuko cocked his head, confused and concerned. “Are…are you all right?” he asked finally.

“…No, little prince. I’m not.”

“Oh.” Zuko placed his annoyingly minute hands in his lap and looked down at them. “Why?” Maybe it had something to do with why Toklo didn’t join everyone else for dinner. Toklo never passed up the chance to have Zuko sit in his lap while they ate.

“Did you know?” Toklo asked quietly, drawing Zuko out of his thoughts.

“Know what?”

“About my brother.”

“You have a brother?”

“Yeah. And he’s- he’s-” Toklo’s face contorted. “The Fire Nation captured him,” he said in a thick voice. Zuko’s heart plummeted. “They tortured him and then they- they killed him.”

“I- I-” Zuko was at a loss for words. He looked around for some guidance. Everyone on deck was determinedly not watching them. He swallowed and put his hand over Toklo’s. “I’m sorry.” Toklo choked back a sob. “Do you- do you want to go somewhere less out in the open?” he asked finally. He couldn’t stand the idea of Toklo losing any dignity over this. Toklo nodded and stood. Zuko got up as well. He took Toklo’s hand and led him belowdeck.

Those on the deck waited a reasonable time before going down as well. The first to stumble across Toklo and Zuko was Panuk. They were curled up in Toklo’s hammock, Toklo holding onto Zuko the same way Zuko had held Seal Jerky the first day of being spirit touched.

“Should we move him?” Panuk asked Kustaa.

“He’ll be fine for now. The first time he gets up to pee, he’ll go to the infirmary,” Kustaa said with a shrug. Panuk looked at him.

“The first time?”

“Oh, he’s been waking me up at least twice each night so that I can take him to the latrine.” Kustaa snorted softly. “At least we don’t have to get dressed and then walk through the snow in the dark like back home.”

“Yeah.” Something contemplative flashed across Panuk’s face. “Zuko wouldn’t be happy if he had to do that.” He watched Zuko and Toklo sleeping. Kustaa finally sighed.

“I’m going to get one last thing to eat before bed. Do you want anything?” he asked. Panuk shook his head. “All right. Sleep well, kid.”

“There’s an actual child on the ship, and you’re still going to call me ‘kid’?” Panuk asked. Kustaa chuckled.

“Look on the bright side. At least you don’t have people mothering you like Zuko does.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I chose Nuktuk as a pseudonym for Zuko because that's the name of Bolin's mover character in Legend of Korra. I couldn't help myself. That's the same reason I posted this chapter so soon after the first. I got impatient.
> 
> I can't promise the next chapter will go up as quickly as this one did; like I said in the notes of the first chapter, I might wait until the next chapter of Salvage goes up first, to make sure I keep things more in line with the OG. But I might get impatient again. We'll see.
> 
> As always, if you have any questions or comments, leave them below or message me at thelastspeecher.tumblr.com.


	3. Little Warrior

“I hate laundry again,” Toklo muttered as he scrubbed a dirty shirt.

“It _was_ nice to have hot water,” Panuk agreed. Enough time had passed that Toklo was no longer giving Panuk the cold shoulder for not telling him about his brother. Panuk had tried to hide how relieved he was when Toklo finally started up a conversation with him again.

Zuko hadn’t bothered to hide his relief. He’d been the only person Toklo would talk to for a while. Given that most of Toklo’s interactions with him had changed due to his young age, it was obvious the firebender wanted someone, anyone else to be the subject of Toklo’s attention. Panuk looked over at the toddler in question.

Since becoming four years old, Zuko had been unable to heat water or dry clothes. Apparently, those tricks required more skill than someone his age had. He had been relegated to scrubbing again, but after falling into the washtub three times, demoted further. Now, he handed Toklo dirty clothes and Panuk clean clothes.

At least, that’s what Zuko was supposed to be doing. At the moment, his arms were out before him, a tiny flame hovering above his cupped hands.

“I’m working,” Zuko said quickly, noticing Panuk’s eyes on him. The flame disappeared, his arms fell to his side, and he stood. He toddled over to Toklo, took the clean shirt from him, and brought it over to Panuk.

“Why have you been doing that so much?” Panuk asked as he inspected the shirt for holes.

“I’m a firebender. I’m supposed to firebend,” Zuko said in a sulky tone. He went over to the pile of dirty clothes and brought a pair of pants to Toklo.

“Aw, don’t get upset, Zuko,” Toklo said. He patted Zuko’s head, wetting his hair. “We’re just not used to you doing that particular kind of firebending all the time. Is it like meditating?”

“Not really.” Zuko sat down again. He kicked the backs of his heels against the floorboards, seemingly without realizing he was fidgeting. “It’s an exercise in control. One of the first that firebenders learn. I need to make sure I maintain control of my inner fire, even while I’m stuck like this.”

“What sort of other things do little firebenders learn?” Panuk asked curiously. Discovering the shirt to have no holes, he hung it up to dry.

“If you’re a regular firebender, some easy forms to generate fire, but mostly just manipulating fire that already exists.” Zuko scowled. “If you’re Azula, forms used in combat,” he muttered, crossing his arms. Toklo handed him the cleaned shirt. Zuko took it and brought it over to Panuk.

“I wonder if the Chief would let you do any of those forms,” Toklo remarked as Zuko handed him a pair of socks. “I mean, you can’t cause as much damage as you could when you were bigger. Right?”

“I…don’t know,” Zuko said after a moment. He crossed his arms again, his lower lip jutting out in a pout. “I’m certainly not coordinated enough right now to do advanced or intermediate forms. But even beginner forms can produce a lot of flames. Especially if the firebender lacks control.”

“But you have control,” Panuk said.

“Yes.” Zuko looked at his feet. “…For the most part.”

“If you do the forms you mentioned that just involve controlling fire, not making it-” Toklo began. Zuko’s head whipped up. He scowled at both crewmen.

“Why do you want me to do actual firebending forms so badly?” he snapped.

“Watching a baby firebender dancing around the deck would be adorable,” Toklo said. Panuk nodded. Zuko’s scowl deepened.

“But the Chief probably won’t let you practice,” Panuk said. “You’re a little kid now, but we’re still on a very flammable ship.” He thumped the wooden boards with a booted foot for emphasis.

“I’m not a little kid,” Zuko mumbled. His fingers twitched.

“Go run around the deck for a bit,” Panuk instructed.

“No. Why?”

“You’re fidgeting again. The Chief said that you need to run off your extra energy, remember?”

“But-” Zuko started.

“Seal Jerky could use the exercise, too,” Toklo put in. Zuko sighed, but stomped away.

“Smart,” Panuk said with a nod. “Turning into a kid made him even more attached to the dog.” Toklo grinned.

“I have my moments.”

* * *

Zuko sat on the deck, idly playing with Seal Jerky as the members of the crew did actual work around him. He’d prefer to join in, but according to Hakoda, none of the tasks were ones he was allowed to do.

“Ahoy, the boat!” a voice called. Zuko’s head jerked up. That voice didn’t come from anyone on the _Akhlut_. He got to his feet and hurried to the side of the boat. Unfortunately, he was too short to see anything.

“I got you, little prince,” Ranalok said, lifting Zuko and propping him on his hip. Zuko’s instinct to argue angrily against the humiliating moniker was wiped away by what he now saw. A ship, also Water Tribe by the looks of it, approaching.

“Is that…?” Tuluk asked, joining Ranalok and Zuko. Bato came over as well.

“It is,” said Bato. “That’s a ship from the Northern Tribe.” He glanced at Zuko. “Wonder if they’ll have any healers.” He cleared his throat. “Ahoy!” he called back in response. Faint cheering echoed across the water, as the sister tribes rejoiced at reunion.

Hakoda was fetched, and the _Akhlut_ waited eagerly until the ship from their sister tribe was close enough for the boarding planks to be laid across. Zuko got Ranalok to put him down, then hid behind Bato’s legs. He didn’t enjoy giving into childish urges, but at the moment, he didn’t want to draw attention to himself.

The first person to board the _Akhlut_ was an elderly man with a severe face. Zuko peered around Bato’s legs curiously.

“My name is Master Pakku,” the man said, bowing to Hakoda. “Myself and some other members of the Northern Tribe set off to assist in the rebuilding of the South Pole.”

“Chief Hakoda,” Hakoda replied, inclining his head in return. Pakku nodded.

“Your children told me of you.”

“My…”

“Sokka and Katara.”

“You met my son and daughter?” Hakoda asked. Pakku nodded again.

“As well as the Avatar. I’m more than happy to tell you about their stay at the North Pole.”

“Please,” Hakoda said.

“Do you have a cabin where we can speak in private?”

“Yes. Follow me.” Pakku followed Hakoda only a few steps before he caught sight of Zuko watching from behind Bato’s legs. Zuko quickly hid again, but it was too late.

“You have a child on board?” Pakku asked, aghast. “This is a warship, is it not?”

“Nuktuk is a special case,” Hakoda said. Zuko fought back the instinctive scowl at the fake name.

“We found him in a Southern village that had been completely destroyed by the Fire Nation,” Hakoda continued. The lie had been spoken so many times by now, it came out without hesitation. “He was the only survivor. Whatever soldier found him chose not to outright kill him, just wound him. Most likely because he’s, well…” Hakoda turned to Zuko. “Nuktuk, come say hello to Master Pakku.” Reluctantly, Zuko emerged from his hiding spot. He walked over to Pakku and bowed. Pakku crouched down to look more closely at him. Sympathy and understanding sparked in his ice-cold blue eyes.

“Ah. We have some children sired by the Fire Nation brutes, as well,” Pakku said after a moment. He stood. “Why have you not dropped him off at a village to be cared for?”

“We were unable to return to our own villages to have him be cared for by Water Tribe. And given his trauma, we thought it best to not leave him in some Earth Kingdom town.”

“You’re probably right,” Pakku said after a moment. He smiled at Zuko. The smile felt forced and cold. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Nuktuk. We have women aboard our fleet who will be more than happy to take care of you.”

“Do you have healers?” Hakoda asked. Pakku nodded. “Excellent. While I speak with Pakku, could someone bring Nuktuk to be looked at by a healer?”

“I think someone would be willing to wrangle the kid,” Bato drawled, eyeing Panuk and Toklo, who just now had come to the deck to see what the commotion was about. Panuk strode over to Zuko and picked him up.

“Of course, Chief,” he said. Hakoda and Pakku disappeared into the chief’s cabin. “Come on, Nuktuk.”

* * *

The healers Zuko was brought to were all women, something that befuddled him. Didn’t the Northern Water Tribe have male healers? The Southern Water Tribe did.

Zuko was instructed to remove his outer clothes and then gently placed in a tub of water. He laid back, keeping his breathing steady, hoping against hope that they might find out what was wrong with him. Being a toddler wasn’t something he enjoyed.

“Hmm,” said the woman bending the glowing water in the tub. She’d introduced herself as Yugoda. “Nuktuk, you’re a bender, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” Zuko said. Responding to the fake name was humiliating, but he’d become resigned to it at this point.

“You don’t seem to be a waterbender…”

“He’s a firebender,” Panuk said. Yugoda stopped bending. She stared at Panuk. “He’s a, um…” Panuk leaned in to whisper. “War bastard.”

“I figured that out just by looking at him,” Yugoda said dismissively. “We have some at the North Pole as well. But none of them firebenders. They all pass away before their first birthday, once the dark winter starts.”

“…Oh.” Panuk cleared his throat. “Well, Nuktuk’s special.”

“Evidently.” Yugoda resumed bending. Being surrounded by water was harrowing, but somehow, Zuko felt his eyes beginning to close. “Ooh, looks like someone’s due for a nap. Don’t worry, I can finish checking him over while he’s sleeping.” Zuko snapped his eyes open, only for them to drift shut again as he dozed off.

* * *

“I’ve never been so glad to pack more than I need,” a voice said. Zuko’s eyes opened. He sat up. “Oh! Hello, Nuktuk!” A young woman entered Zuko’s field of vision. She beamed at him.

“It’s about time you woke up,” said Bato’s voice. Zuko looked over. Bato was sitting nearby, cross-legged. “You slept during the healing session _and_ being carried off the boat _and_ everyone pitching tents _and_ dinner.” Zuko looked around. As he slowly woke up, he could now tell he was in a tent.

“Yugoda said that the healing session might have caused you to sleep deeper and longer than normal,” said the woman. She smiled apologetically. “Sorry.” Zuko’s stomach rumbled. “I’ll go get you something to eat!” The woman dropped the clothes she was holding and left the tent.

“That’s Yuka. She’s got a kid your age back at the North Pole,” Bato explained. “The second she saw you, she insisted on watching you.” Bato nodded at the clothes Yuka had dropped. “And adjusting some of her kid’s clothes to fit you. Just before you woke up, she was telling me how she packed clothes for her kid, only to realize she didn’t need them, since he was staying behind.”

“…I’m getting more clothes?” Zuko asked, deciding to respond to the last thing Bato mentioned.

“Yep. Water Tribe clothes, not the Earth Kingdom stuff we bought.” Bato leaned back. “Hakoda had me watch you, just to make sure Yuka didn’t try to steal you or anything.”

“Would she do that?” Zuko asked quietly. After a moment to think, Bato shook his head.

“Probably not. But better safe than sorry.”

“What were the results of the healing session?” Zuko asked.

“Yugoda’s talking to Hakoda about that right now. Oh, and he wanted me to remind you to be on your best behavior.”

“I always am!” Zuko protested. Bato snorted.

“Sure. But in this case, best behavior means acting like a regular toddler, okay? Don’t say or do anything that would make anyone think you’re something other than a Water Tribe four-year-old,” Bato said. Zuko looked down at his lap. “Not saying anything is an option, if you have no idea how someone your age talks.” Zuko nodded silently.

“I heard you like sea prunes,” Yuka said, entering the tent again with a plate of the aforementioned food. She handed it to Zuko. “Eat up! A growing boy like you needs a full tummy!” Bristling at the cloying and condescending tone, Zuko nevertheless did as he was told.

* * *

Yuka worked fast. By the time Zuko finished his dinner, she had finished altering an entire outfit to fit him.

“I can dress him, if you’d like,” she offered. Bato shook his head.

“Nuktuk can dress himself.”

“…Oh.” Yuka deflated. She recovered quickly, beaming at Zuko. “You’re such a smart boy!”

“Would you mind turning away?” Bato asked. “He likes privacy.”

“Oh, of course.” Yuka and Bato turned away, allowing Zuko to dress himself without being watched.

“Done,” Zuko said, once he had pulled on the last article of clothing. Yuka squealed.

“You look so much like my little boy, Kota. Except for your hair…” Yuka patted her lap. “Come here, Nuktuk.” Zuko looked at Bato, who shrugged. Reluctantly, Zuko walked over and sat in Yuka’s lap. “A young warrior like yourself can’t have such messy hair,” Yuka said.

Zuko’s hair _had_ been getting long lately.

“It’ll only take me a second to fix that up for you,” she continued, pulling Zuko’s hair back. “And…done! Now you’ve got a proper warrior’s wolf tail.” Yuka patted Zuko’s head. “No one would be able to tell you weren’t full Water Tribe.”

Something uncomfortable uncurled in Zuko’s stomach. Hakoda popped his head into the tent. He did a double-take at the sight of Zuko in Water Tribe clothes and with a Water Tribe hairstyle, but masked his surprise quickly.

“Bato, Nuktuk, come with me.” Zuko hopped off Yuka’s lap.

“Nuktuk, what do we say?” Bato said, stopping him from leaving the tent. With a soft sigh, Zuko turned to Yuka and bowed.

“Thank you,” he said. Yuka beamed.

“No problem.”

“Now, let’s see what the chief has to say,” Bato said. He took Zuko’s hand and led him out of the tent. The two walked through the sea of tents that had been pitched for the night, allowing the sister tribes to spend time together. The women from the Northern Water Tribe cooed at Zuko as he walked past, commenting on the “little warrior”.

Zuko wasn’t sure whether he preferred “little warrior” or “little prince”.

He and Bato arrived at Hakoda’s tent and entered. Hakoda and Kustaa were waiting for them. Kustaa raised an eyebrow at Zuko.

“I like this new look for you, nephew,” he commented. Zuko flushed. Kustaa patted a spot next to him. Zuko walked over and sat. Bato sat next to Hakoda. “Healer Yugoda told us what she was able to determine from her healing session, as well as what all she healed in you.” Zuko swallowed nervously.

“And?” he asked. Before he could get a response, someone entered the tent. All heads turned to the man stepping inside, Pakku.

“Master Pakku, we were going to talk with Nuktuk in private,” Hakoda said. Pakku sat across from Zuko.

“I know.” His eyes bored into Zuko. Zuko met Pakku’s steely gaze in return. “I wanted to speak with Nuktuk as well. Yugoda just told me that he is spirit touched.”

“We were hoping to tell Nuktuk this ourselves,” Hakoda said firmly. Pakku raised an eyebrow.

“I think he knew he was spirit touched without me saying so.”

“Master Pakku-”

“I received word from an old friend some time ago,” Pakku said, talking over Hakoda. “He informed me that he had lost his nephew at sea.” A chill passed through Zuko. “He was hopeful that his nephew may have been able to save himself; the boy was very stubborn and strong, after all. Though every day that passed, he felt less and less certain. All he could do was pray to the spirits.” Pakku placed his hands in his lap and leaned forward. Zuko sat straight, fighting the instinct to lean back. “He’ll be pleased to find that they stepped in.”

“What are you trying to say?” Hakoda asked. Pakku continued to stare at Zuko.

“You need to contact Iroh, Prince Zuko.” A stark silence fell.

“Master Pakku, this is incredibly-” Hakoda started. Zuko leapt to his feet. His hands, clenched in fists, burst into flame. The fire in the lamp lighting the room surged. Pakku merely straightened, satisfied to have been proven correct.

“How do you know my uncle?” Zuko snarled. He heard Hakoda and Kustaa sigh.

“It’s a very long story, Your Highness.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“If you insist, Prince Zuko.” 

“Just- just Zuko,” Zuko said quietly. The flames wreathing his hands faded. The lamp dimmed, returning to normal. He sat down. “I’m not a prince anymore.”

“Hmm.” Pakku looked Zuko over thoughtfully. “Then what are you?” Zuko looked away. “The women in the camp are calling you a ‘little warrior’. That seems an apt enough description.” Zuko felt his face turn red. “Regardless of your title, you need to write to your uncle.”

“…No,” Zuko whispered. Pakku’s eyes narrowed.

“He is beside himself with grief, boy. He has the right to know you’ve survived, regardless of your own embarrassment over your current situation.”

“I can’t.”

“Either you tell him or I do,” Pakku said firmly. Tears sprung to the corners of Zuko’s eyes. He hurriedly wiped them away, trying desperately to feign a casual air. “Will you write to your uncle, telling him you’ve survived with the help of the spirits?” Zuko shook his head. “Really? You won’t tell your beloved, _grieving_ uncle that you are alive?” Pakku snarled. Hakoda stood.

“Master Pakku. It’s his decision to make, and his decision alone. You may contact his uncle if you feel you can do so without risking lives or safety.” Hakoda gestured for Pakku to stand. Pakku got up. “Please. Let us have our conversation with Zuko in private.” Pakku reluctantly bowed.

“I will write Iroh for you, then, little warrior.” He exited the tent.

* * *

“Bato…” Hakoda started.

“I can keep an eye on him,” Bato confirmed. He followed Pakku out. Hakoda turned to Zuko.

“I can’t write to Uncle!” Zuko burst out. The tears he’d been holding back began to stream down his face. Hakoda strode over to the young boy and sat in front of him.

“I understand,” he said softly. Kustaa was patting Zuko on the back, but the gesture wasn’t calming him whatsoever.

“No, you don’t!” Zuko covered his face with his hands. “I- I want to. I miss Uncle. And if I write the letter, then I can cut out the humiliating details. But I can’t write to him. I can’t- I can’t write to _anyone_!” Kustaa’s gentle pats stopped. He and Hakoda exchanged an uncertain look.

“What do you mean?” Hakoda asked, keeping his voice calm. Zuko pulled his legs to his chest and buried his face in his knees.

“I can write. But only- only some things. And I can’t write it very well. I physically can’t write to Uncle and explain what’s happened to me.” Hakoda nodded slightly, feigning an unperturbed air. This wasn’t good news. It was the opposite. But it was in line with what Yugoda had told him.

“Yugoda told me that the way the spirits touched you disrupted your chi. She felt that it might reduce certain capabilities of yours until you are balanced again.”

“How do I get balanced?” Zuko asked, his voice choked with tears.

“I don’t know. Yugoda could only do so much.” Hakoda thought back to the very first thing the healer had said.

_“Maybe if I had been there when he was first burned, I could have done something,” Yugoda said, visibly distraught. “But when one heals, the body is set in that way. It can only be righted by reinjury.”_

_“What are you referring to?” Hakoda asked._

_“The damage caused by his burn. I cannot rid him of that scar, nor restore all abilities of his ear and eye. Nuktuk will have to learn to adapt to his handicap. I’m sorry.”_

Hakoda hadn’t realized until then that some part of him hoped a waterbending healer could do something for Zuko’s burn. He had never seen waterbending healing in action; it seemed magical. How could magic like that fail?

But it was for the best. It would only serve to distress Zuko further if he woke up to an unblemished face and unencumbered sight and hearing. Yugoda’s failed attempt to heal the old wound would be kept a secret from the boy.

For now.

“Great.” Zuko raised his head. He wiped away the tears spread across his face. “I was put in water again for no good reason.” Guilt twanged in Hakoda’s heart. Of course the boy was hesitant to be submerged. An adult that barely survived drowning in the ocean would avoid the sea. To a child, it might feel torturous to be submerged in even a small pool for healing. Hakoda hadn’t considered that.

He should have.

“Not quite. She did heal a few injuries that you apparently still had from going overboard,” Kustaa said. “As well as some scrapes and bruises from your time on the _Akhlut_. The most prominent injury she healed was what she called ‘a rather stubborn concussion’. Once you’ve gotten a full night’s sleep, you should feel much better.”

“…I suppose that’s good,” Zuko said begrudgingly. He rubbed his eyes, stifling a yawn.

“You should probably go to bed,” Hakoda said. Zuko yawned. “Little warrior.”

“Don’t call me that,” Zuko muttered.

“Why not? It’s what you are.” Hiding his serious thoughts behind a playful smile, Hakoda flicked the short wolf’s tail Zuko’s hair had been put into. Zuko scowled at him. “You’ll be sleeping in this tent with me tonight.” Hakoda nodded at a corner, where he had put the pile of furs that had become Zuko’s bed while he was a toddler.

“Okay, Chief,” Zuko mumbled. He yawned again. Kustaa stood and pulled Zuko to his feet.

“Come with me. Let’s have you hit the latrines before bed,” the healer said. Zuko nodded. Kustaa exited the tent, Zuko toddling alongside him.

Hakoda let out a tired sigh.

* * *

_Iroh,_

_I know how you desperately hope that the spirits intervened when your nephew was lost at sea. As such, I am glad to share the news that they did._

_During our journey to our sister tribe, we came across a Southern ship. On board was a boy, clearly Fire Nation, with a large burn on the side of his face. Our healer informed me the boy was spirit touched. As a leader of my Tribe, I take care to interact with spirit touched individuals and determine why the spirits intervened in their lives. After speaking with the boy, my suspicions about his identity were confirmed._

_Your nephew, Zuko, is alive. The crew of our sister tribe’s ship has taken care of him as though he were their own, and he seems pleased enough to be with them._

_Our sister tribe asked that I not give you their location, for their safety. I must acquiesce to their request for the sake of tribal unity. But you may know that they have been traveling along the Earth Kingdom coast. The same coast you were traveling along when Zuko went overboard._

_The boy seems very invested in maintaining his dignity. That may be something to keep in mind, should you cross paths with him._

_Best,_

_Pakku_

The letter trembled in Iroh’s hands. He stared down at the loosely elegant handwriting of his old friend, unable to believe what he had just read. Zuko…was alive?

“Thank you, spirits,” Iroh whispered, his head bowed. He had been ridden with guilt since the events at the North Pole, when his inaction had resulted in a young woman giving her life to save the Moon Spirit. That guilt, combined with the grief over losing Zuko, had caused him to part ways with the _Wani_ , its crew, and the Fire Nation as a whole. The knowledge that the spirits hadn’t held the incident against his family was humbling.

_Starting my own tea shop will have to wait._ Iroh tucked the letter into a pocket. _…But that doesn’t mean I can’t visit someone else’s. Tracking down Zuko will require the kind of planning I can only get while enjoying a nice ginseng._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You might have noticed that I now officially have a chapter count for this fic, instead of just a question mark. That's because I finally sat down and figured out my outline. The chapter count might go up (sometimes I can't shut up when I'm writing and I have to split one chapter into two), but it won't go down.
> 
> I'll be moving soon, so I can't promise that future chapters will go up as regularly as the first three have, but I'm going to do my best!
> 
> As always, if you have any questions or comments, please leave them below or message me at thelastspeecher.tumblr.com.


	4. Baby Badger-Viper

Hakoda should have known that whatever Tuluk had to say was trouble. The crewman had come into his cabin while he was responding to letters from the Northern Fleet – without knocking.

“Chief?” Hakoda set his pen down.

“Yes?” he asked.

“The kid’s up the mast again.”

“The-” Hakoda’s eyes widened. “ _Zuko_ climbed the mast?” Tuluk nodded. “He’s four!” Though, now that Hakoda thought about it, Zuko’s current age wasn’t as much of an impediment as it would have been to someone else. This was, after all, the boy that had managed to bruise multiple crewmen while battling hypothermia. Hakoda got up from his desk and followed Tuluk onto the deck.

“You need to wear something!” Toklo called. True enough, Hakoda could just make out a very young boy, sitting on the crossbeam of the main mast.

“Tui and La, how did he get up there?” Hakoda breathed. Much of the crew had stopped to watch the spectacle of a toddler up very high, in a very precarious, very dangerous situation. Even those who were taking longer to warm up to Zuko were visibly concerned for his safety. The crewmen that had bonded with him, like Toklo, looked like they might have heart attacks.

“No!” Zuko shouted down to Toklo. His voice was petulant, but not in the way a prince would speak. He sounded every bit the toddler he was. “I won’t wear it!”

“It’s the only thing in your size, Zuko,” Bato argued. Hakoda walked to his second-in-command’s side.

“What happened?” Hakoda asked. Bato sighed and uncrossed his arms.

“The little brat won’t put on a coat.” Bato looked up the mast to shout again. “Do you want to get sick again?”

“Yes!” shrieked the small firebender.

“Son of a-” Bato rubbed his forehead.

“Why won’t he put on a coat?” Hakoda asked.

“The one he likes is still drying,” Toklo said. “We had to wash it earlier.” Washing it was the right move. The last Hakoda had seen of the coat, it was covered in messes that only a clumsy toddler could make.

“We got him another coat last time we docked,” Hakoda pointed out. Panuk snorted softly.

“Yeah, and he _hates_ it.”

“Are you talking about me?” Zuko shouted. “That’s not nice!” Scattered snickers came from the crewmen.

“I’ll get him,” Hakoda said wearily.

For the second time, he climbed up the mast to retrieve a stubborn firebender. When he arrived at the crossbeam, Zuko glared at him.

“Zuko, you can’t stay up here.”

“Yes, I can!”

“No, you can’t.”

“ _Yes_ , I can!” Zuko said stubbornly. Hakoda sighed. He’d forgotten how difficult toddlers could be. After all, it had been a while since his children were this young, and up until now, Zuko had been on his best behavior.

“It’s not safe for you,” Hakoda said, forcing calm. Zuko glanced down at the deck uncertainly, then met his eyes again with that distinctive glower. But Hakoda had seen the brief flash of fear across the boy’s face. Zuko didn’t want to be up here any more than Hakoda wanted it. “You’re coming down with me.”

“No.” Zuko fidgeted. On a crossbeam. That a fall from would cause serious injuries. Hakoda fought the instinctual urge to grab the boy. He waited. Zuko clearly had more to say. “…I’m scared,” Zuko finally whimpered. “It’s taller than before.”

“Well, you’re shorter than before,” Hakoda pointed out. Zuko fidgeted again. “I’ll carry you down, okay?” After a moment, Zuko bobbed his head. He scooted closer to Hakoda, who scooped him into one arm, stifling a sigh of relief. Zuko buried his face into Hakoda’s shirt, hiding from the height or the eyes of the crewmen, Hakoda wasn’t sure.

Once back on the deck, Hakoda set the boy down. This incident with the mast was vastly different from the first; for one, the boy shivering in the cold wind looked nothing like the proud prince they’d fished from the sea. With his blue clothes drying, Zuko was in his green Earth Kingdom attire again. His hair, which Hakoda felt certain grew faster than normal, was tied back in the traditional wolf’s tail. It took the shortest amount of time of any hairstyles the crew knew, and Zuko was too fidgety to sit still for a longer one.

No, Zuko didn’t look like a prince. He looked like a refugee. Like one of the orphans that picked up a heritage from any adult willing to help them, and as a result, blended many backgrounds into one.

It wasn’t entirely inaccurate, Hakoda considered, to think of the former Fire Nation Prince as a refugee.

“Put on your coat,” Hakoda instructed Zuko, pushing away his musings. Zuko scowled.

“N-n-no,” he said, his teeth chattering from the cold.

“Wearing a coat you dislike is preferable to catching your death,” Hakoda said shortly. Zuko opened his mouth like he was going to argue, but closed it again. He nodded reluctantly. Toklo, who had been standing nearby with said detested coat in his hands, moved forward and draped it over Zuko’s shoulders.

“I can put it on myself,” Zuko whined as Toklo busily dressed him.

“I’m just helping you with the buttons,” Toklo chirped, buttoning up the coat. He pulled the hood over Zuko’s head. “There! Now you can stop shivering.” Now that the coat was on, Hakoda could see why the boy hated it.

“It looks even better than I thought it would,” Bato said, not bothering to hide the glee in his voice. “We’d better keep you away from the birds. They might think you’re a predator.” Zuko scowled.

“Of course you like it, you bought it,” he mumbled. Bato grinned. The coat was one made for children that enjoyed dressing up in costumes. It had ears on the hood and a tail on the back. Overall, it brought to mind a simplified version of an animal Hakoda had heard of, but had not seen.

“You make quite the fierce pygmy puma,” Hakoda remarked.

Zuko pulled the hood further down his face, pouting.

* * *

“He’s here, Chief,” Aake rumbled as he walked onto the deck, carrying Zuko over his shoulder.

“Put me down, put me down!” Zuko shrieked, kicking his legs ineffectually. “I don’t need a nap!”

“You sound just like Sitka when he gets overtired,” Aake said. “That’s a sign that you _do_ need a nap.”

“No!” Zuko whined. Aake handed the squirming toddler to Hakoda.

“Zuko, we’ve been over this,” Hakoda said wearily. Zuko wriggled fiercely in Hakoda’s arms. A few sparks burst into life, meeting Hakoda’s skin and causing him to instinctively drop the toddler. Unlike the first time he’d fallen to the deck, Zuko didn’t stay quiet. He burst into tears.

“What is going on with him lately?” Panuk muttered.

“He’s overtired, for one thing,” Aake said. Hakoda picked Zuko up again and brought him to the infirmary, ignoring the boy’s crying. “Toddlers always get worse when they need a nap.”

“Yeah, but he’s been acting out even when he’s not tired,” Toklo pointed out. Aake shrugged.

“Maybe he’s given up on pretending to be a teenager.”

* * *

It took a long time for Zuko to calm down. The moment he did, he fell asleep, exhausted from his temper tantrum. Kustaa shook his head.

“It’s back to being the baby badger-viper you were when you first joined us, huh?” he asked the sleeping boy. Zuko snored in response. A thin line of drool dribbled down his cheek. “At least you’re too small to bruise us every time you throw a fit.” Zuko snored again.

Satisfied that his young charge wouldn’t wake up for some time, Kustaa took out the book he’d been given by Healer Yugoda. It was a record of every known instance the Northern Water Tribe had of someone being spirit touched. Hopefully, he could find _something_ in it to illuminate what had happened to Zuko. He sat down at his desk and began to read.

Yugoda’s book was very, _very_ detailed. It included names that Kustaa half-remembered and others that he had never heard before, tales from both poles, ancient legends, and even recent instances, such as the Moon Spirit saving the life of a Northern Tribe Princess.

The reasons spirits intervened in mortal affairs were varied, but a common one was for personal growth. Spirits, despite being immortal, could be impatient with the pace of human development. Any human that had been marked as having a significant destiny was watched closely. Should that human dawdle on their journey, a spirit might intervene.

Kustaa wasn’t too familiar with Fire Nation customs, but he had heard that the royal family were thought of as being blessed by the Sun Spirit, Agni. Zuko, a Fire Nation Prince, would undoubtedly have a destiny the spirits might take interest in. It seemed most likely that Zuko had been reverted to a child as some manner of speeding his journey. After all, the other frequent cause of a spirit intervening – to save a life – didn’t apply. Zuko had been hale and hearty the day before he woke up as a toddler.

Unfortunately, there were no records that Kustaa could find of spirits returning someone’s youth. Which dashed the hope that he might be able to figure out whether Zuko’s change in behavior was as troubling as it seemed. Zuko didn’t seem to notice, but the rest of the crew had picked up on the firebender’s increasingly frequent meltdowns, immature speech patterns, and juvenile reactions.

_He could be upset about something, and slipping into more age-appropriate behavior as a coping mechanism. It could be a delayed effect of this specific spiritual intervention. Or even an effect that only happens after being in a spirit touched state for an extended period of time. Maybe it’s as some crew are suggesting, that he’s given up hope of returning to his proper age, and as such, opted to give up acting as if he were that age._

With a soft sigh, Kustaa closed the book. There were too many possibilities, and he wouldn’t be able to narrow them down unless Zuko opened up.

_Fat chance of that happening._ There was faint stirring from Zuko’s furs. Kustaa looked over. A small face popped up.

“Did you enjoy your nap, nephew?” Kustaa asked pleasantly. Zuko yawned widely and stretched. He nodded. “Good.” A sudden stricken look crossed Zuko’s face.

“Um…” Zuko fidgeted. “Can- can I stay in here for a while?” he asked sheepishly. Kustaa raised an eyebrow. “I…I behaved poorly earlier,” Zuko mumbled. After he’d let Zuko wallow for a moment, Kustaa nodded.

“I have some herbs that need sorting. If you’d like, you can do that.” Zuko beamed. Kustaa fought back a smile in return.

The kid was a beast when he was upset, but far more endearing than he had any right being.

Like most young children.

* * *

Hakoda browsed the selection of the store, in his peripheral, keeping an eye on Zuko. The first few towns, he hadn’t been the only golden-eyed child, but as they progressed down the coast, his obvious Fire Nation heritage turned more and more heads. Luckily, any glares sent Zuko’s way were replaced by sheepish looks once they saw his scar. The fact that Zuko preferred warm clothing, and thus dressed in Water Tribe attire more often, helped as well. But Hakoda remained on edge.

Someone tapped on Hakoda’s shoulder. He turned.

“Excuse me, sir, but is he your son?” asked the woman who had approached him. She pointed at Zuko, who was ogling a display of exotic spices. Hakoda nodded. “Ah.” A sympathetic expression settled on the woman’s face. “It was very kind of you to keep him.”

Hakoda knew what the woman was implying. It was the lie he’d given over and over, that Zuko was a war bastard. But the lie suddenly tasted bitter. He’d seen the golden-eyed street urchins. He knew that war bastards weren’t always kept. Still, Hakoda couldn’t shake loose the dirty feeling that had come over him, at the suggestion that a mixed-blood child growing up in a home was an anomaly, not the norm.

“Of course I kept him,” Hakoda said softly. “He’s my son, regardless of his parentage.” The woman smiled. Zuko stood on his tiptoes, reaching for a bright red spice. “Nuktuk.” Zuko spun around. The woman Hakoda was talking to let out a soft gasp. “If you want to get a closer look at something, ask and I’ll get it for you.” Zuko scowled. “We can’t have you knocking things over again.” Zuko nodded reluctantly. Hakoda walked over. “What did you want to look at?”

“That,” Zuko mumbled, pointing out the red spice. Hakoda handed it to him.

“This?”

“Yeah.” Zuko stared intently at the small bottle. According to the label, it contained ground chilis and fire flakes. “I like this.”

“Do you want it?” Hakoda probed. After a moment, Zuko nodded. “Then ask.”

“Can I have it?” Zuko asked quietly. Hakoda raised an eyebrow. “Please?” Hakoda nodded.

“Since you asked so nicely…” Zuko handed Hakoda the bottle, already brimming with excitement. “You can keep looking around, but remember to be careful.” Zuko nodded. He toddled over to a wall of jars containing pickled vegetables. Hakoda turned to the woman he’d been speaking with. Horror filled her eyes.

“I’ve seen burns on refugees before, but never something that bad on someone so young,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry.” Hakoda paused for a moment, trying to figure out how to respond.

“Thank you. But it’s something we’ve done our best to move past. Dwelling on it only makes it worse,” he said diplomatically. The woman shook her head, still visibly disturbed. She walked over to Zuko and crouched next to him, speaking to him in a low voice.

Hakoda watched for a few moments, nervous that Zuko might say or do something that made it obvious he wasn’t a regular toddler. But the woman didn’t seem perturbed, so he resumed shopping. The woman eventually left Zuko’s side and went up to the register. She stopped by Zuko again on her way out of the shop.

Hakoda brought the supplies up to the register. Zuko sidled over to him, a large stuffed animal turtle duck in his arms.

“That thing’s almost as big as you,” Hakoda remarked. Zuko scowled and hugged the toy tighter. “I can’t buy it for you, you know.”

“Not a problem, sir,” said the cashier, counting out Hakoda’s change. “Lily got it for him.”

“The woman that was in here earlier?” Hakoda asked. The cashier nodded.

“Yup. She’s got a soft spot for refugee kids.” The cashier shook his head. “It’s a shame what good people like you and your family have to deal with. Leaving your life behind, taking only the barest of necessities…”

“It’s war,” Hakoda said dryly. The cashier handed Hakoda his change.

“That it is.”

* * *

Zuko’s poor behavior began to die down after that stop. His stuffed turtle duck came with him almost everywhere. It reminded Hakoda of the blanket Sokka had been overly attached to as a child.

“Who would’ve thought the kid just needed a toy?” Bato remarked. Some of the men were training on the deck. Zuko was watching, heckling those he thought could do better. His sharp words were undercut by how tightly he hugged his stuffed animal.

“A complete stranger in a store,” Hakoda said softly.

“You mean the woman that bought it for him?”

“Yes. She was under the impression we were refugees whose only real possessions were the clothes on our backs.”

“Huh. Well, with Zuko, that’s actually pretty accurate.”

“Exactly.” Hakoda watched Zuko tease Ranalok for losing a sparring match. “I don’t think Zuko qualifies as a refugee, but he’s pretty close to one. His world’s been turned upside down multiple times. I can’t believe I didn’t think of giving him a toy or blanket or-”

“Hakoda, he’s been trying to act like a teenager for most of his time as a kid,” Bato pointed out. “Don’t be too hard on yourself. The good news is that the kid’s finally calming down again.”

“We never did find out why he started acting up.”

“Don’t look a gift ostrich-horse in the mouth,” Bato said with a shrug. Hakoda didn’t respond. Zuko yawned widely. Hakoda walked over.

“Zuko, would you come with me?” Hakoda asked softly. Zuko nodded. He followed Hakoda into his cabin. Hakoda lifted the boy onto the chair opposite his desk, then sat down. Zuko looked at him, his eyes getting slightly bleary from tiredness.

“What is it, Chief?” Zuko asked. Hakoda steepled his fingers.

“I want to talk about your behavior.” That shocked him out of any sleepiness he might have had. Zuko straightened, eyes wide with fear. “Before you say anything, I’m not punishing you. You’ve been very well-behaved since we last docked.” Zuko relaxed slightly. “But for a rather long time, you were not.”

“I’m sorry,” Zuko mumbled.

“I don’t want an apology. I’m just wondering if you could share with me the reason,” Hakoda said. Zuko squeezed his stuffed turtle duck. “After we parted ways with the Northerners, you began acting in ways you hadn’t before. Why?”

“Why are you asking me now?” Zuko mumbled. “You should have asked while I was misbehaving.”

“Do you remember how you refused to cooperate with something as simple as taking a nap?” Hakoda asked. Zuko reddened. He nodded. “That’s why I didn’t ask then. I’m not going to judge you. But if you know why you were behaving so poorly-”

“I was upset,” Zuko blurted out. Hakoda waited. The boy didn’t say anything else.

“Why were you upset?” Hakoda prodded gently.

“Uncle,” Zuko mumbled. He squeezed his toy again. “I…miss him.”

“Do you want to see him?”

“Yes. No. I-” Zuko looked away. “The spirits cursed me, and I don’t know why, and Uncle cares too much, and he’d ask questions I don’t know how to answer, and-” Hakoda held up a hand. Zuko fell silent.

“You were conflicted,” he said. Zuko nodded. “You want to see your uncle, but you’re worried how the reunion might go.” Zuko nodded again. “You could have told us.”

“No. I’m already _four_. I don’t need any more indignities thrust upon me.”

“Zuko, when something troubles you so much that it affects your behavior, it’s something you need to share,” Hakoda said patiently. Zuko scowled. Hakoda felt like he was back in time, trying to convince Sokka to talk things out before escalating to a fight. “Are you better now?” The young firebender blinked in surprise, clearly taken aback by the apparent change in topic.

“Sort of. I mean, I still miss Uncle and feel…conflicted,” Zuko confessed. “But it’s not as bad now.” He looked down at his stuffed animal. “I had one like this before. Lu Ten gave it to me.”

“Lu Ten?”

“My cousin. He- he died during the Siege of Ba Sing Se.”

“Ah,” Hakoda said softly. Zuko looked at him expectantly. Hakoda raised an eyebrow. “Yes?”

“Am I excused?” Zuko asked. Hakoda nodded. Zuko hopped off the chair and rushed out of the cabin. Hakoda leaned back.

_Despite all his protests to the contrary, he’s just a boy. A boy that feels a bit safer when he has something of his own to cuddle_. Hakoda grimaced. _I can’t tell Toklo and Panuk that toys are apparently the key to getting Zuko to open up. They’ll bury him in stuffed animals._

* * *

_“Zuko.”_ Zuko sat bolt upright. He looked over at Kustaa. The healer was still fast asleep. Wondering if he’d imagined it, Zuko laid back down. _“Zuko.”_

_Who’s saying that?_ Zuko fought free of his pile of furs. He slipped on a coat to protect himself against the night wind and snuck onto the deck as quietly as possible. The night shift did their chores, not paying any attention to the toddler padding past them. Something guided Zuko’s feet to the edge of the ship. He clambered onto the railing, ignoring Hakoda’s voice in the back of his head telling him to stop climbing things.

The full moon shone in the sky. Its mirror image on the still ocean was just as bright. Zuko cocked his head curiously at it. Normally, he could feel the influence of the moon decreasing his bending capability. But tonight, he didn’t feel stifled.

_It’s probably because my bending is even weaker than usual right now._ Zuko tilted his head back to look up at the stars. A memory flashed in his mind: the first time he’d seen the spirit lights in the South Pole. Uncle had been thrilled and dragged Zuko out of bed to watch. He blinked, and the memory faded. No colorful ribbons split the sky in two. Stars scattered across the heavens like they had been spilled from a jar. The moon hung heavy. Zuko sighed. _I should go back to bed._

_“Not yet, Prince Zuko.”_

“Just Zuko,” Zuko said instinctively. His eyes widened. A figure began to form out of the moon. A young woman, about the age he’d been before the spirits cursed him. She smiled sweetly.

_“Not cursed, Prince Zuko. Blessed,”_ she said. Her voice echoed across the waves. She floated closer. _“And why would I not call you Prince? It is your title.”_

“Not- not anymore,” Zuko stammered. He resisted the urge to fidget. Clearly, he was in the presence of a spirit. He had to be on his best behavior. The spirit settled next to him on the railing. Zuko winced slightly; her bright glow hurt his bad eye. Her eyes widened. The glow surrounding her dimmed from the force of the full moon to a soft foxfire.

_“I apologize,”_ she said. _“This is the first time I’m really acting as a spiritual intermediary.”_

“But…you’re the moon spirit,” Zuko said, having finally recognized her. She smiled sadly.

_“Not always. You can call me Yue.”_

“Yue.” Zuko looked down at his hands. “Yue, I- I can’t be the prince anymore.”

_“Why not?”_

“I just- I can’t.”

_“Hmm.”_ Yue looked out across the water. _“If you want to renounce your title, it might behoove you to wait until you have a firm reason for doing so.”_

“…Maybe,” Zuko mumbled. He took a deep breath. “Why- why are you here?” he asked. To his displeasure, it came out as a weak squeak. Yue smiled fondly at him. Her white hair billowed behind her, despite the complete lack of breezes.

_“It’s time you were told why the spirits have intervened with you.”_ Zuko whipped his head up to stare at Yue in shock.

“That doesn’t happen very often.”

_“The general consensus is that you might not pick up on it on your own,”_ Yue confessed. Zuko flushed in embarrassment. _“Prince Zuko, your personal journey, one that the spirits have been invested in, is unlearning what you were taught by your father.”_

“Like what?” Zuko asked. “Give me an example.” Yue’s mouth twitched.

_“They’re all examples.”_

“What?”

_“Children your age wear their hearts on their sleeves and don’t hide their intentions,”_ Yue said, changing the topic _. “They have no difficulty accessing the emotions that you grew up learning to stifle. If you wish to be a kind, just ruler someday, you must relearn how to be vulnerable and open. You must abandon the idea that rage and fear are all that will make you strong.”_

“But that’s where firebending comes from. Anger.”

_“Is it?”_ Yue asked, cocking her head. Zuko blinked. _“Do you understand what I am telling you?”_

“It sounds like you want me to stop being Fire Nation.” Zuko rubbed the back of his neck. “Which…I sort of already have.”

_“No. The Fire Nation is no more inherently bad than any other creed.”_ Yue put a hand on Zuko’s back. _“It has a rich culture whose good aspects have been masked by the bad ones for a hundred years.”_ She began to fade. _“Our time is coming to an end.”_

“What? But you didn’t- you didn’t tell me anything!” Zuko protested. Yue began to float away.

_“I did.”_

“No, you-” Zuko huffed. “What am I supposed to do? Am I even going to return to my proper age?”

_“That’s something only you can control,”_ Yue said softly.

“Wait!” Zuko shouted at the spirit. She was growing smaller, moving away from him, back to the moon hanging in the sky. “Wait!” He got to his feet clumsily. “That’s not a real answer, it’s-” His already precarious balance on the rail failed as the ship hit a rough wave. Zuko toppled forward, falling overboard.

Again.

At least he was rescued quicker this time. Ranalok had seen him lose his balance and fished him out of the ocean immediately. Tuluk stood ready nearby with a towel.

“Kid, you have to think of some new ways to drive us up the wall,” Tuluk said as he removed Zuko’s dripping outerwear. Thankfully, he didn’t take off all of Zuko’s clothes, even though every stitch was drenched. The crewman allowed Zuko some of the piddling amount of dignity the former prince had left. He wrapped Zuko tightly in the towel and dragged him to the infirmary.

When Kustaa awoke and saw the soaked boy, he merely raised a silent eyebrow.

“The baby badger-viper fell overboard,” Tuluk explained. Kustaa sighed. “Hopefully he won’t get sick this time.”

“Hopefully,” Kustaa repeated. Tuluk left. Kustaa turned so that Zuko could undress and dry off. “You realize what this means, right?”

“…No,” Zuko said warily, scrubbing his hair with the towel.

“Your clothes need to dry again.” Zuko froze. “Including your favorite coat. So…” Zuko scowled as the coat he did not like one bit was tossed at him. “Time to dress up like a pygmy puma.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Zuko's pygmy-puma coat is based off of [this art](https://agent-jaselin.tumblr.com/post/623011400134049792/zuko-doesnt-like-shopping-trips-he-likes-it-even) made by my internet pal agent-jaselin on Tumblr.
> 
> I'm going to be moving in a little over a week, so I have a lot of packing and whatnot to do. Because of that, Chapter 5 will go up in two weeks, not one. But hopefully this chapter is enough to tide you over until then.
> 
> As always, if you have any questions or comments, leave them below or message me at thelastspeecher.tumblr.com.


	5. Nephew

It started with a sneeze, the day after they fished Zuko out of the ocean for the second time.

“Aw, you sneeze like a raccoon-kitten,” Toklo cooed. Zuko glared at him. Then sneezed again, louder. A few sparks appeared with the second sneeze. “Uh, little firebenders sneeze fire?”

“I’m not little,” Zuko growled. “But…yes.” He sneezed again. Toklo hurriedly stomped out any sparks that landed on the deck.

“This won’t end well,” Panuk said quietly.

* * *

The sneeze progressed to a full-body cough, one that was so obviously agonizing it made the crewmen wince in sympathy.

“We need to follow you around with a bucket,” Aake rumbled, watching Panuk and Toklo rush to put out yet another fire. It appeared that accidentally producing flames wasn’t something reserved for sneezing. Zuko sat down on the deck, even paler than usual. He coughed again.

“That might be a good idea,” Panuk agreed, hurrying to stomp out the new sparks. Zuko let out a low groan. Aake pressed the back of his hand against Zuko’s forehead. He quickly removed it.

“You’re sick, kiddo,” he said to Zuko. His voice had more affection in it than he’d realized he had for the boy. Zuko looked up at him, eyes already glazed over with fever. “Someone better take him to the healer right away. When someone this young gets sick, it can go bad fast.”

“Come on, little brother,” Toklo said, scooping Zuko into his arms. “ _Wow_ , you’re warm.”

“No, ‘m cold,” Zuko mumbled blearily. He let out another hacking cough. Toklo carried Zuko to the infirmary while Panuk stayed behind to put out the third accidental fire of the day.

* * *

As Zuko’s condition worsened further, he became less and less willing to leave his pile of furs. Eventually, he could only leave the infirmary if carried out. The crewmen checked in near constantly. At first, it was just Toklo, Panuk, and Hakoda. Then Bato. When Aake began to stop by to inquire as to the toddler’s health, Kustaa knew it was official.

Zuko had wormed his way into the heart of every crewman.

“I’m surprised by how frequently you poke your head in,” Kustaa remarked to Aake. Aake stroked Zuko’s hair.

“He reminds me so much of Sitka, especially when he’s wearing blue,” Aake said, keeping his voice soft so as to not wake up the sleeping toddler.

“All Zuko had to do to win you over was be turned into a four-year-old.”

“Hmph.”

“And don’t think that I haven’t noticed you only stop by when he’s asleep.” Kustaa smirked at Aake. “You don’t want him to know how much you’ve come to like him.” Aake rolled his eyes. “Maybe once he’s better, you can be another uncle of his.” The door to the infirmary opened.

“Come on, Kustaa. Let a man miss his son in peace,” Bato said, entering. “Aake, you’re needed on deck.”

“On my way.” Aake’s hand lingered on the crown of Zuko’s head for a moment before he got up and left.

“How is he?” Bato asked Kustaa. Kustaa sighed.

“Sick and getting sicker.”

“Any idea what it is?”

“Not yet.” Kustaa looked at Zuko. “The kid should wake up soon, and once he does, I’m going to ask a few questions about his symptoms. I’m starting to wonder if it’s something only seen in the Fire Nation.” Bato frowned, concerned.

“If it’s a Fire Nation illness, would you be able to cure it?”

“Depends on what it is. I have the instructions for treatments of a few Fire Nation maladies,” Kustaa said. “Not as many as I’d like, though.” Faint stirring came from Zuko’s pile of furs, along with a weak groan. “Are you up, nephew?”

“I’m up,” Zuko mumbled, fighting his way free. He sat up and stretched. “Did you want something, Bato?”

“I just wanted to check in on the sick little pygmy puma,” Bato replied. He ruffled Zuko’s hair. “Feeling better?”

“I’m not feeling _worse_.” Zuko let out a hacking cough. “Never mind. I am.” Bato raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“No sparks?”

“He hasn’t produced fire on accident for a few days now,” Kustaa said, coming over. He put the back of his hand against Zuko’s forehead. “Hmm. Your fever’s getting worse.”

“Can he firebend on purpose?” Bato asked.

“ _He_ is right here,” Zuko grumbled.

“Zuko, would you mind trying to create a small flame?” Kustaa requested. Zuko held out his hands. His brow wrinkled in concentration. The only thing emitted, however, was a weak puff of smoke. “Hmm.” Kustaa stroked his beard thoughtfully. “Bato, could you get him something to eat?”

“Will do.” Bato gently lifted Zuko. “Candy and sea prunes, right?” Kustaa frowned at him.

“Tummy hurts too much,” Zuko said blearily. “Not hungry.”

“Broth it is,” Bato said. He carried Zuko out of the infirmary. Kustaa took down his most thorough book on illnesses.

_He can’t firebend…maybe that’s the symptom that will allow me to finally diagnose him._

* * *

Hakoda knocked gently on the door of the infirmary.

“Come in,” said Kustaa’s calm voice. Hakoda entered, closing the door softly behind him.

“Any luck?” Hakoda asked.

“Some,” Kustaa said from his spot by Zuko’s side. He gently draped a blanket over the sleeping boy. “I’ve figured out what he has. It’s called bender’s burnout. It’s an illness only firebenders can have, caused by the bender’s inner flame being stifled.” Kustaa got up and walked over to his desk. He pulled out a book. “According to this, hypothermia or a near-drowning are the primary means by which an inner flame is stifled enough to cause bender’s burnout.” Hakoda swore softly.

“This happened because he went overboard again?” he asked. Kustaa eyed Hakoda.

“Before I identified the illness, I knew that was the cause,” Kustaa said.

“Yes, but-” Hakoda shook his head. “He didn’t get this specific illness when we fished him out the first time. Why now?”

“Apparently, bender’s burnout is most common in the very young, because their inner flames tend to be weaker. As a teenager, Zuko’s inner flame was strong enough to hold his own in a firefight. As a child, well. You’ve seen how much effort it takes him to even make sparks.”

“What’s the cure?”

“I don’t know,” Kustaa said softly. His lips flattened into a thin line. “None of my texts have information on afflictions that only affect firebenders. I was lucky to stumble across what I did: symptoms and the cause.” Zuko coughed weakly from his pile of furs. Hakoda looked over at the boy. Zuko’s already pale skin was corpse-white, his forehead shone with a thin sheen of sweat, yet he was shivering intensely. “If we hope to cure him, we’ll need to find a healer who has expertise on firebenders.”

“Where would we find one of those?”

“We could try the next port,” Kustaa said with a shrug. “People believe us when we say Zuko is a war bastard for a reason. There’s a lot of them. And where there are firebenders, there are healers who know how to treat them.”

“There’s no other way to help Zuko?” Hakoda asked softly. A long moment passed. Kustaa shook his head.

“Bender’s burnout doesn’t go away on its own. It needs to be treated. And I don’t know how.” Zuko tossed fitfully in his sleep.

“How long does he have?”

“I’m not sure,” Kustaa admitted. “But my nephew is far more stubborn than anyone else I’ve met. As long as I can continue to manage his symptoms, he should hang on until we make port again.” Hakoda walked over to Zuko. He brushed sweat-drenched hair out of the boy’s face. Zuko leaned into the gesture with a faint smile. Hakoda’s heart ached. Zuko was so young, too young.

“I’ll tell everyone we’re changing course. We’ll head for the nearest port.”

* * *

The _Akhlut_ finally arrived at a bustling Earth Kingdom town. Hakoda carried Zuko, buried in furs, off the ship. Kustaa followed close behind. They approached the first person they saw.

“Excuse me, but we need a healer,” Hakoda said urgently.

“Ryo is-” the man started. Kustaa stepped forward.

“We need one specializing in firebender ailments,” he said softly. The man’s eyes widened.

“I hope we can trust you,” Hakoda said. He put as much weight into the words as he could.

“Of course,” the man said. “My son’s best friend is a war bastard. The boy goes to Healer Lee, on the outskirts of town.”

“Thank you,” Hakoda said gratefully. He reached into his pockets for money. The man shook his head.

“Save your money for your…”

“Nephew,” Kustaa said.

“Save the money for him.”

“Thank you,” Hakoda repeated. Zuko let out a weak cough. “Hang in there, Nuktuk.”

* * *

This town was lovely. Iroh enjoyed the friendly townspeople. But he couldn’t help being disappointed. It was yet another dead end. He had yet to find any sign of his missing nephew anywhere.

In a sea of green and brown, there was a sudden burst of blue. Iroh looked curiously at the two Water Tribe men rushing through the crowded town square. His eyes widened. They were the same men he’d seen shortly before he arrived at the North Pole. Iroh’s heart sank as he realized that one man wasn’t just carrying furs; a young boy was hidden within them.

_What was the boy’s name? Nuktuk?_ Nuktuk looked deathly ill. Concerned for the boy’s health, Iroh followed from a safe distance. They had just exited town when Nuktuk began to thrash in his father’s arms.

“Lemme down, lemme down!” Nuktuk whined loudly. “I gotta-” Nuktuk’s father (step-father, more likely – the boy seemed to be a war bastard) hurriedly set the boy on the ground. Nuktuk stumbled forward and vomited. His father knelt next to him, rubbing his back.

“Are you okay to be carried again, Zuko?” the man asked. Iroh’s breath caught in his throat. The boy straightened. Now close enough to see him well, there was no doubt as to who the child was. Iroh would recognize his nephew anywhere, with or without the horrid scar on his face.

_What have the spirits done?_

“Zuko, we need to go to the healer,” said the second man. Zuko nodded. “Can the chief pick you up again?”

“I…” Zuko trailed off. He had caught sight of Iroh. Their eyes met. “Uncle!” Zuko sprinted away from the men, directly for Iroh. Iroh dropped to his knees. He held his arms out. Zuko collided with him.

“Prince Zuko,” Iroh croaked, embracing his nephew as tightly as he could. He could feel Zuko’s fever through his clothes. “Nephew, what are you doing?”

“Seeing a healer,” Zuko replied. Iroh held him out at arm’s length. Zuko’s beautiful golden eyes, normally sharp like a hawk’s, were unfocused and cloudy with fever.

“You certainly need one.”

“Excuse me?” Iroh looked up. The tribesmen had walked over. Iroh stood. He kept a hand on Zuko’s shoulder. “Are you really his uncle? General Iroh?”

“Yes, I am,” Iroh said. Zuko smiled at him. “I have many questions, but I think they can wait until my nephew has seen a healer.” The men looked relieved.

“That would be best, yes,” said one. “We got directions from someone in the village.” Iroh picked Zuko up. Zuko nestled against his chest.

“Lead the way,” Iroh said firmly.

* * *

Iroh and the tribesmen sat outside the healer’s house. Zuko had been treated, but needed to rest for a while before the healer would let him leave.

“We should probably introduce ourselves,” one of the tribesmen said abruptly. “I am Chief Hakoda of the Southern Water Tribe. My companion is our healer, Kustaa.” Healer Kustaa bowed his head.

“Why did you need to bring Zuko to a different healer, if you had one?” Iroh asked.

“I’m not well-versed in firebender ailments,” Healer Kustaa replied. Iroh hummed softly.

“By the way, thank you, General, for not attacking when you saw Zuko,” Chief Hakoda said. Iroh leaned back.

“You don’t get to be my age as a soldier unless you learn to take stock of a situation fast,” Iroh said. “The immediate concern was my nephew’s health, not you.” He chuckled softly. “Not to offend you or anything.”

“No, I understand,” Chief Hakoda said. He leaned forward, his hands resting on his knees. “But I still appreciate it. To be frank, we wouldn’t have stood a chance against you.” Iroh chuckled again.

“I know. So, how did you come to have my nephew with you? I received a letter from a friend in the Northern Water Tribe telling me you had Zuko, but the letter didn’t provide many details.”

“We pulled him out of the ocean, half-dead,” Healer Kustaa said.

“Thankfully, the spirits stepped in, ensuring you rescued a young boy. If you had come across a Fire Nation teenager, you would have had a drastically different reaction.” The tribesmen looked at him, bemused. “I have seen firsthand the realities of war; I know what would have happened if you stumbled across someone old enough to be a soldier for the opposing side.”

“He wasn’t a toddler when we rescued him,” Chief Hakoda said slowly. “That particular…situation is more recent.”

“Then you are bigger men than I would have been in my days as a soldier,” Iroh said. The men exchanged a look. Clearly, they were holding something back. But Iroh knewit would be best to wait patiently for further information, rather than immediately pry. “Thank you for taking care of him.”

“Well, the kid’s more endearing than he realizes,” Healer Kustaa said. “Our youngest crewmen befriended him quickly. Once he had them on his side, it was all over.” Iroh beamed.

“I’m very glad to hear that he has been working on his social skills. My nephew tends to struggle to make friends.” Iroh adjusted his seat slightly. “How long has Prince Zuko been like this?”

“A handful of months. He’s actually spent more time with us as a toddler than as a teenager,” Chief Hakoda said. “And before you ask, we don’t know why the spirits did this to him.”

“Zuko might know,” Healer Kustaa said suddenly. Chief Hakoda and Iroh looked at him. “The incident that made him fall overboard, which caused him to get so sick? He’s been talking about it in his sleep. Most of what he says is nonsense, since he’s been so feverish. But every now and then, he mumbles something about talking to a young woman in the moon.”

“The young woman…” Iroh leaned forward. “Prince Zuko wouldn’t happen to be calling her by name, would he?” Healer Kustaa raised an eyebrow.

“He’s called her Yue.”

“A Water Tribe name,” Chief Hakoda remarked.

“Yes, but also the name of the new Moon Spirit,” Iroh said. Chief Hakoda and Healer Kustaa sobered immediately.

“We heard about that,” Chief Hakoda said. “Like everyone else, we saw the moon go dark. When we crossed paths with our sister tribe, they informed us of the tragedy that happened during the Siege of the North.”

“Yes. It was most distressing,” Iroh said solemnly. “I was there.” The door of the healer’s home opened.

“He’s awake now,” Healer Lee said. Zuko toddled out of the house. “Kustaa, come inside, I’ll go over the continuation of his treatment.” Healer Kustaa nodded. He got up and followed Healer Lee inside, ruffling Zuko’s hair on his way. Zuko sat between the two men. He beamed at Iroh.

“I thought I had only dreamed that you were back,” Zuko said happily. Iroh rested the back of his hand against his nephew’s forehead. The boy was still feverish, but whatever the healer had done clearly put him on the mend.

“No, Prince Zuko, I’ve found you,” Iroh said warmly. A strange look crossed Zuko’s face. He looked down at his adorably minute feet.

“Just Zuko, Uncle,” he mumbled. Iroh hid his surprise at the request.

“If you insist, nephew.” The enormous smile was back.

“Are you going to join the ship?” Zuko chirped. His grin broadened. “You could get a fake name, too!”

“I was hoping that the Water Tribe would be kind enough to let me accompany you, yes,” Iroh said with a nod. Chief Hakoda grimaced. “Chief Hakoda, I recognize that you would not be comfortable with _two_ firebenders aboard your ship, but-” The chief was already shaking his head.

“You seem a sensible man, General. As such, you should understand that it’s not my comfort I need to think of, but the comfort of my men. They would not want the Dragon of the West on our ship.” Iroh’s heart sunk. He bowed his head.

“Yes, I understand.”

“What? But- Uncle!” Zuko whined. Iroh put a gentle hand on his nephew’s shoulder.

“Nephew, what is right may not be what I want to do. But that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t do it. What is right is that the men who have helped you so much stay comfortable. I cannot be on the ship.” He squeezed Zuko’s shoulder, his heart heavy. “And what is right is that you continue to be treated for your illness. You need to stay with Chief Hakoda, so that Healer Kustaa can take care of you.”

“But-”

“Chief Hakoda,” Iroh said abruptly. “Is your ship headed for a specific destination?”

“Yes.” Chief Hakoda eyed Iroh. “Can I trust you with it?”

“Pakku trusts him,” Zuko piped up. “I trust him. Isn’t that enough?” Chief Hakoda wavered for a moment before sighing.

“Fine. We’re headed to Chameleon Bay, to help the Earth Kingdom Army protect Ba Sing Se.”

“I’ll meet you there.” Iroh smiled at Zuko. “Maybe during my travels, I’ll stumble across a way to return you to your appropriate age.” Zuko’s eyes widened. Healer Kustaa emerged from the house.

“Come on, nephew, you need to lay down for more rest,” Healer Kustaa said, taking Zuko’s hand. Iroh tensed. “Oh.” Healer Kustaa managed a wry smile. “When he was feverish and ill shortly after we brought him on board, he mistook me for you and called me ‘uncle’. Since then, I’ve called him my nephew.”

“…I see,” Iroh said slowly. He stood. “I should leave. It will take me longer to arrive at Chameleon Bay, given I won’t be traveling by ship.”

“Before you leave,” Chief Hakoda said, standing as well, “would you please tell me what happened at the North Pole? Our sister tribe didn’t inform us of any of the specifics, just that the Avatar had been involved in the battle and that the Moon Spirit was killed and revived.”

“It may have been too painful,” Iroh said. “I am more than willing to share with you what I witnessed. But if you don’t mind, I’d like to say goodbye to my nephew.” Chief Hakoda nodded. Iroh turned to Zuko. He knelt on the ground. “Nephew…” Zuko pulled free of Healer Kustaa’s hold and rushed forward to embrace Iroh.

“I don’t want you to leave, Uncle,” he whispered. Iroh rubbed Zuko’s back.

“I know, Zuko. But remember what I said. I can’t do what I want. I must do what is right.” Iroh removed something from his pocket, an item he had been holding on to since Zuko was lost at sea. “Here.” He handed the knife to Zuko. Zuko took it from him with awe in his eyes. “Do you remember this?”

“Never give up without a fight,” Zuko said softly. Iroh smiled.

“That’s right. You are waging many battles right now, young nephew. But keep fighting.”

“I will, Uncle,” Zuko said, holding the knife close to his chest. Iroh ruffled his hair.

“Good. Then I will see you soon.” Iroh stood and watched Healer Kustaa lead his nephew away. Once Zuko was out of sight, he turned to Chief Hakoda. “I am willing to share my stories, but I would like more information as to my nephew’s stay with you in return.” Chief Hakoda nodded.

“I expected as such.” The men began to walk together. “Where would you like me to start?” Iroh sighed, glad to ask the question he’d had since he saw Zuko.

“Why is my nephew dressed like a Water Tribe child?”

* * *

“Hold that pose,” Toklo instructed. Zuko wobbled slightly. “C’mon, little brother, just a bit longer!” Zuko’s legs gave out. He collapsed to the deck, coughing. “Maybe we should go back to the basics.”

“No, those katas are for _babies_ ,” Zuko snapped. He coughed again. Hakoda, who had been observing Zuko’s practice, crouched next to him.

“You’re only four and recovering from an illness. Pushing yourself right now would do more harm than good,” he said, his voice gentle but firm. “Once you’ve stopped coughing so much, you can move on to the more complicated forms. But for now, I agree with Toklo.” Zuko scowled.

Zuko’s treatment involved him actively practicing firebending. The healer had informed Kustaa that Zuko developed bender’s burnout in large part due to Zuko restricting his firebending to simple meditations.

_“He said to me, ‘Water Tribe people might not be very educated, but that’s no excuse for making a young bender suppress his art. No matter the element, if they avoid bending, they’ll become ill,’” Kustaa vented angrily once Hakoda had returned to the ship. “I tried to tell him that the kid didn’t want to bend, but he wouldn’t hear it.”_

_“Zuko needs to practice firebending, then, to get better?” Hakoda asked. Kustaa nodded._

_“And to stave off future bending-related illnesses. He gave me a scroll with forms for children Zuko’s age.” Kustaa handed Hakoda said scroll. “My nephew probably already knows most of these forms, but I guess we could use them as a reference to make sure he’s doing them right.”_

Hakoda took the scroll from Toklo and looked over the forms for the easiest.

“Turtle-duck pose,” he instructed. Zuko scowled, but did as he was told. “Good work, kid.” Zuko’s scowl was replaced with a grin that stretched ear to ear.

Initially, Zuko had brushed off any compliments he got on his bending forms. Hakoda had a feeling that Zuko’s reaction was because he didn’t believe them. Thankfully, it only took a week for the boy to shift gears from doubt to exuberance at being told he had done a good job.

“Chief?” Bato called from his spot at the ship’s bow. Hakoda ruffled Zuko’s hair, handed the scroll back to Toklo, and walked to his second-in-command.

“What is it?” Hakoda asked. Bato handed him a spyglass silently. When Hakoda looked through it, he swore. “Fire Nation.”

“Yes.” Bato’s face darkened as he stared in the direction of the ship he’d spotted. “And they’ve definitely seen us. We won’t be able to avoid battle.”

“You’re right.” Hakoda swallowed. “Hopefully, Zuko will sleep through it.”

“He’s a light sleeper.”

“Not lately. Being sick can make you sleep like the dead.” Hakoda handed the spyglass back to Bato. “I’ll inform the crew to prepare for battle.” Hakoda looked back at Zuko. The toddler was unsteadily working through the basic firebending forms for Toklo. “And I’ll see if Kustaa can put him to bed earlier than usual, so that he misses the fight.”

* * *

Zuko did sleep through the entire battle. Better than that, however, was that no one on the ship had fallen. Any blood stains or scorch marks on the deck were hurriedly scrubbed away before Zuko could see, though he did get told the day after. Like before, Zuko sat watch with a small flame in his palms.

The rest of the trip passed by without incident. Not just Hakoda, but the crew as a whole felt a swell of pride as Zuko became more confident in his bending practice, progressing from the basic steps to the intermediate ones quickly. Well, the ones considered intermediate for his age. The boy was eager to begin the advanced movements, but Hakoda felt they were still beyond his ability. Not to mention, the advanced katas seemed more likely to accidentally set the boat on fire.

“Finally!” Zuko whooped as they landed at Chameleon Bay. “I miss dry land.” Scattered chuckles sounded among the crew. Bato stopped him from rushing down the gangplank after Hakoda.

“Hold on, little warrior. Before we come ashore, the Chief needs to meet with whoever’s in charge.” Zuko cocked his head curiously at Bato.

“Isn’t Chief Hakoda in charge? I thought he was the leader of the entire Southern Fleet.”

“He is, but it’s still important to announce ourselves to the person that has been running things. Once we’ve settled in, the Chief will take over.”

“The Chief also needs to let the other men know we’ve got a Fire Nation brat on board,” Aake added. Zuko frowned at him. “Otherwise, you might get a chilly welcome.”

“I guess,” Zuko muttered, crossing his arms. Bato ruffled his hair.

“Go help Kustaa take stock of the infirmary supplies while we figure things out, okay?” Bato said. Zuko sighed and toddled off. Bato shook his head, hiding a smile. “Damn kid really weaseled his way into all of our hearts.”

“I’m taking bets on how quickly he does the same to the tribesmen already here,” Panuk drawled. “So far, no one’s put anything down on it taking any longer than a month.”

“Well, yeah, those odds are too slim,” Toklo said. “My little brother’s gonna have everyone eating out of his hand in a couple weeks at most. Especially with his lingering cough.” According to Kustaa, Zuko was no longer ill. His occasional coughs were just the result of his sickness irritating his throat.

“I agree,” Bato said. “‘Nuktuk’ has a very endearing backstory.” He looked at Panuk. “Put me down for twelve days.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My internet pal agent-jaselin on Tumblr made even more adorable "Spirit Touched"-inspired art! Check out Zuko being a troublemaker [here](https://agent-jaselin.tumblr.com/post/625450777461358593/more-of-thelastspeechers-tiny-zuko-this-time).
> 
> Sorry it took me so long to update this; turns out moving states takes a lot of time and effort. I actually still haven't completely unpacked. That, combined with some of my other responsibilities and how important the next two chapters are, means that I'll begin updating every other week, rather than every week. But at least there are only two chapters left to wait for!
> 
> Also, "Salvage" updated today, and there are some things in the new chapter that are similar to things I touched on in this chapter. Which is a delightful coincidence, because I had those things written before the new chapter even went up!
> 
> As always, if you have any questions or comments, leave them below or message me at thelastspeecher.tumblr.com.


	6. Refugee

Water sloshed over the rim of the bucket Zuko was carrying. The tribesman Zuko was following stopped to look back at him.

“Nuktuk, if this is too difficult for you, you can go back to your tent and play,” the tribesman said. Zuko scowled. The troops at Chameleon Bay had accepted him with open arms, though they didn’t know his proper age, and as such, tended to talk down to him and refuse to let him help with chores.

“No, I’ve got it,” he insisted. The tribesman shrugged.

“All right, if you say so.” There was a commotion off in the distance. “Huh. I wonder what’s-” Tuluk came running over. “Tuluk, is something going on?”

“Yes. The Chief is handling it, but Nuktuk needs to go back to his tent for now,” Tuluk said.

“What’s happening?” Zuko asked.

“We have a visitor,” Tuluk replied. Zuko frowned.

“What kind of visitor?”

“You’ll find out once things calm down.”

“But-”

“No buts.” Tuluk handed Zuko’s bucket of water to the tribesman, then took Zuko’s hand and led him away. Zuko looked over his shoulder. He couldn’t see much in the chaos, but caught a glimpse of red.

* * *

Zuko didn’t find out what had happened until much later, when Toklo came to his tent to bring him to dinner.

“Something happened earlier. What?” Zuko asked immediately.

“It was crazy, little bro. A Fire Nation soldier walked into camp and asked to join our side.”

“Who?”

“That’s the craziest part! General Iroh! The Dragon of the West!” Toklo shook his head. “Can you believe it?”

“Yes. Uncle said he would meet up with me again,” Zuko said matter-of-factly. Toklo facepalmed.

“That’s right! He’s your uncle! Okay, it’s a bit less crazy now. But how did he know where we were?” He paused. “What do you mean, he said he would meet up with you?”

“When Hakoda and Kustaa took me to see a healer, Uncle spotted us. He asked to come aboard the _Akhlut_. The Chief turned him down, but at told Uncle where we were headed, so that he could meet us,” Zuko rattled off.

“Why didn’t you tell me before?” Toklo demanded.

“I was sick.”

“Fair enough.” Toklo took Zuko’s hand. “Time for dinner!”

“No, I want to see Uncle first,” Zuko said, yanking his hand free of Toklo’s hold.

“I don’t think-” Toklo started. Before he could finish the sentence, Zuko bolted out of the tent. “Hey!”

Zuko made a beeline for the largest tent, which served as a command center. Uncle might not be there, but Hakoda or Bato should be, and they would take him to Uncle. Right? The moment he ducked inside the tent, Zuko’s eyes landed on Uncle.

“Uncle!” Zuko shrieked happily. He ran over to the retired general. Uncle scooped him into a tight embrace.

“Nephew, it is so good to see you again.” Uncle held Zuko at arm’s distance. “You look much healthier now.” Zuko beamed. Uncle set him back on the ground. “This was not the best move to make, however.”

“What?”

“Chief Hakoda informed me before of your cover as a Water Tribe war child. The way you just behaved, while very heartwarming, was not in character for Nuktuk.”

“I don’t care.”

“You should, nephew. Keeping up appearances is very important, particularly in your situation,” Uncle said patiently.

“Luckily, I’m the only other person in the tent,” Hakoda spoke up. Zuko looked over, realizing he was there for the first time.

“Where is Uncle going to stay?” Zuko asked.

“Eventually, with you,” Uncle replied. “Chief Hakoda and I were just discussing our plans.”

“The story we’ll be telling is that General Iroh, devastated by the loss of his nephew, had his eyes opened to the reality of the war. As such, he has arrived at the camp to switch sides and offer his help.”

“Like the best of lies, it contains some truth,” Uncle said, nodding. “I won’t be allowed to be around you until Chief Hakoda’s men trust me. So I am very glad you sought me out on your own.”

“Toklo told me you were here.”

“Toklo would be…?”

“My friend.”

“Ah.” Uncle’s face creased with a broad, warm smile. “What a wonderful thing you hear you say. You should go find this friend of yours and have dinner with him.”

“But-” Zuko started.

“Don’t worry,” Hakoda said. “General Iroh will be here for a while.”

* * *

“You’re very articulate for your age, Nuktuk,” gushed one of the Southern tribesmen that Zuko had yet to know by name. Zuko smiled politely. He bowed.

“Thank you,” he said. The tribesman chuckled and ruffled his hair.

“Keep up your firebending practice, kiddo. Who knows, maybe you’ll be the first Water Tribe firebending Master.” Zuko’s smile became more forced. He didn’t mean to be caught firebending, but Uncle had begun to teach him firebending again, and someone had witnessed one of the lessons. Since then, tribesmen approached him near constantly, curious about the firebending Water Tribe toddler.

“You should probably get back to work, Kenai,” Panuk said. Ah, the man’s name was Kenai. “Otherwise, you’ll get your ass beat for slacking.”

“Watch your language around the kid!” Kenai said in shock. Panuk laughed. He gave Zuko an affectionate noogie.

“The kid spent months on a ship. He knows just about every swear under the sun,” Panuk said. Kenai shook his head disapprovingly.

“Geez. Well, see you later, Nuktuk. And you too, Panuk.” Kenai walked away, whistling. Zuko smirked at Panuk.

“You’re an afterthought,” he teased. Panuk laughed.

“Only because Kenai’s a big brother. He can’t resist cute little kids.”

“That explains why he felt the need to talk to me,” Zuko said thoughtfully. “I thought word had spread about me.”

“Oh, it definitely has. There’s no one who doesn’t know who you are.” Panuk poked Zuko playfully. Zuko slapped the hand away, laughing.

“Wait…you guys have a _kid_ here?” a voice said. The hairs on the back of Zuko’s neck rose. That voice… He turned his head ever so slightly. His eyes widened. It was _him_.

“Huh, I guess someone _doesn’t_ know who you are,” Panuk remarked, looking as well. He frowned. “He must be new.”

“Sokka,” Zuko ground out. Panuk’s head whipped around to stare at Zuko.

“That’s the Chief’s son?” he asked. Zuko nodded, his jaw clenched. “I see it now. They look pretty similar.”

“Why is he here?” Zuko snarled.

“Probably because, like I said, he’s the Chief’s son,” Panuk drawled. “I wonder if the Avatar’s with him.”

“That’s Nuktuk,” Hakoda informed Sokka. They were far enough away that there was no chance Sokka could recognize Zuko, but Zuko’s heart still pounded in his chest. His fingers twitched. He couldn’t decide whether he wanted to run at Sokka or away from him. “We found him in a destroyed village on our way out of the South Pole. He’s been with us ever since.”

“Really? He’s just a kid! How old is he, two?”

“Four,” Hakoda said calmly. Panuk reached for Zuko’s hand.

“I think it’s time to take you somewhere else, little warrior.” The moment his hand touched Zuko’s, he let out a soft yelp of pain. “What was that about?” Zuko looked up at Panuk.

“What?”

“You burned me, squirt.”

“Oh. Whoops.” Zuko resumed glaring at Sokka, who was still arguing with Hakoda.

“Wh- you’d take a four-year-old on your ship, but not your own son? Who, I’ll remind you, was a _lot_ older than four when you left?”

“Sokka…” Hakoda’s voice was weary. “You don’t want to be in that kid’s boots. He’s seen things no child should ever see.”

“Oh, you think _I_ haven’t? I traveled with the Avatar!” Sokka’s shouts were beginning to attract attention. Zuko could feel the control he’d worked so hard to cultivate slipping; droplets of flame fell off his fingers, lighting the grass on fire.

* * *

Iroh, while relaxing in the tent he shared with Zuko, heard bickering outside. Curious, he exited the tent. He took in the scene. Panuk and Zuko stood nearby, Zuko staring at something and Panuk stomping on smoking grass. Small flames were dancing around Zuko’s fingers, his good eye squinting in a glare to match his bad one. It didn’t take a genius to figure out the cause of Zuko’s irritation. Some distance away, but growing closer, were the people he had heard bickering: Chief Hakoda and Sokka, the Water Tribe boy that had accompanied the Avatar.

The Water Tribe boy who, in his first encounter with Zuko, had hit him in the head with a boomerang.

“It’s wonderful to see a familiar face,” Iroh said warmly, walking over to Sokka and Hakoda. Behind him, he could hear Panuk finally ushering Zuko away, out of sight of the chief’s son. Sokka stared at him.

“Hang on, you’re that one guy!” he said, eloquently. Iroh smiled.

“Yes, I am.”

“What are you doing at a Water Tribe camp?”

“After what happened at the North Pole, I could no longer stand by and allow my nation’s war to continue,” Iroh said simply. Sokka crossed his arms.

“Really,” he said flatly. “After everything the Fire Nation’s done, killing a _fish_ was what made you realize they were evil?” Something in his voice quivered a bit, like he didn’t believe the loss of the Moon Spirit was as minimal as he was trying to make it sound. Iroh bowed his head slightly.

“Yes. I spent some time traveling the Earth Kingdom and eventually came to join this encampment, with the blessing of none other than your father,” Iroh said. His words were technically true, but left out important details. The kind of lying Iroh preferred to do.

“You trusted him, Dad?” Sokka asked. Chief Hakoda nodded. “Why?”

“People I trust spoke for him,” Chief Hakoda said simply.

“Like who?”

“Master Pakku of the Northern Water Tribe, for one.”

“Wait.” Sokka stared at Iroh. “You know Master Sourpuss?” Iroh chuckled. Sourpuss was certainly an apt description for his old friend.

“Yes. I have for some time.”

“How?”

“That’s a rather long story, and not important,” Iroh said smoothly. “Let me guess, you, your friends, and the Avatar have arrived at Ba Sing Se?”

“Yeah…”

“Would you be so kind as to allow me to walk with you? I would like to hear the wonderful stories of your adventures.” Sokka looked uncertain, but after a moment, nodded.

“Sure. But you better not be sending information back to the Fire Lord!” Sokka snapped. Hakoda rolled his eyes. Iroh merely smiled and nodded.

“Of course.”

* * *

Bato found Zuko wandering around the camp, peering into tents with a confused expression.

“Are you looking for something, little warrior?” he asked. Zuko looked up at him, brow furrowed.

“Where’s Uncle?”

“He went with Sokka and Aang to Ba Sing Se,” Bato replied. Zuko crossed his arms.

“Stupid Avatar. He’s _my_ uncle,” Zuko muttered. Bato covered his mouth, poorly smothering a snicker at the firebender’s immature behavior. Zuko stomped his foot. “Don’t laugh!”

“Relax. Come on, it’s time for your nap, anyways.” Bato took Zuko’s hand and led him back to the tent Zuko shared with Iroh. Toklo was already there, looking for Zuko.

“Where’d you run off to, little brother?” Toklo teased.

“I was looking for Uncle,” Zuko mumbled. He let out a small yawn.

“When Iroh gets back, I’ll send him your way,” Bato promised. Zuko nodded. Toklo led him into the tent for his nap.

Zuko was still napping when chaos erupted at the encampment. Bato and Hakoda were in the midst of going over battle plans, only for Katara to burst in the head tent. The excitement Hakoda felt at seeing his daughter was quickly subdued when Sokka came in close behind, carrying the unnervingly still body of the Avatar.

“What…happened?” Hakoda croaked, staring at Aang.

“Lightning,” huffed a short girl, who, judging by her milky eyes, was blind. Katara laid Aang on the ground and held glowing water over his body. Her forehead was drenched in sweat, her hands shaking. Sokka didn’t seem to be doing much better. “The Fire Princess struck Aang with _lightning_.” A man in extravagant, expensive clothes poked his head into the tent curiously.

“What should I do?” he asked. The short girl huffed again.

“Could someone entertain the Earth King?” she asked, turning her sightless eyes in the direction of Hakoda and Bato.

“…Earth King?” Hakoda and Bato said simultaneously.

“Kids, _what happened_?” Hakoda repeated.

“I told you, lightning.”

“I need more information than that.”

“After I’ve stabilized Aang, we can talk, Dad, but right now, I need to focus,” Katara snapped. Hakoda bit back an instinct to scold her for her tone. She was under an immense amount of stress; it was more than understandable she’d be on edge. Sokka got up from where he was crouching at Aang’s side.

“I can explain. It’s better if we leave the tent while Katara heals Aang. Toph, stay here.” The blind girl, apparently named Toph, nodded. Sokka, Hakoda, and Bato left the tent.

“What in the world is that thing?” Bato asked, staring at the strange creature before them.

“It’s a bear,” Sokka answered.

“Platypus-bear?”

“No, just a bear. Weird, I know.” Sokka sighed. “He’s the Earth King’s best friend or something like that, so the bear came with us when Ba Sing Se fell.”

“Ba Sing Se fell?” Hakoda asked in an undertone. Sokka’s head drooped.

“Yeah. Princess Azula staged a coup. We got out with the Earth King and his bear, but during the fight, Aang was struck by lightning.”

“What about Iroh?” Bato pried. Sokka slumped further.

“He was taken prisoner. We had the one good firebender in the world on our side, and we let him get caught.”

“I’m sure Iroh isn’t the only good firebender,” Hakoda said, resting a hand on Sokka’s shoulder. His gaze fell on Zuko and Iroh’s tent, where the toddler was, presumably, still fast asleep.

“I don’t know, Dad. It really seems like he is.” Sokka rubbed his eyes, drawing Hakoda’s attention to just how tired his son seemed. Hakoda yearned to just tell Sokka to go to bed. But if Ba Sing Se had truly fallen, they had no time to waste. They needed to abandon the encampment and set sail immediately. Hakoda squeezed Sokka’s shoulder.

“Stay here with your sister. Bato, spread the word that we need to leave _now_. I’ll take care of Nuktuk.” Bato’s eyes widened.

“The kid is _not_ going to be happy.”

“That’s why I’ll be breaking the news to him.” Hakoda squeezed Sokka’s shoulder one more time and set off for Zuko and Iroh’s tent.

* * *

The tent didn’t burn down. But only barely. Zuko’s initial, destructive meltdown upon hearing what had happened to Iroh exhausted him so much that he passed out soon after. It was easy enough to smuggle the sleeping toddler aboard the _Akhlut_ without Hakoda’s children or his children’s friends noticing. Keeping up the secrecy was far more difficult.

“Why won’t you let them see you?” Hakoda asked. Weary from stress, his voice came out harsher than he intended. Zuko flinched slightly. “I’m sorry, Zuko, I didn’t mean to say it that way. But you know they won’t recognize you, right?”

“They might,” Zuko mumbled. “I can’t risk it. I’ll be humiliated.”

“…Fine. But you’ll have to ask Toklo or Panuk to help you move around the ship without being seen. I’m busy.” The _Akhlut_ , though beloved, would need to be abandoned. There were too many Fire Navy ships now. As such, they had plans to take a Fire Nation ship themselves. Hakoda had been working on those very plans when Zuko entered his cabin, wanting attention.

 _Of course he wants attention, his life has been upheaved and he’s lost his uncle again._ Hakoda pinched the bridge of his nose and took a calming breath. He could hear Kya’s voice, scolding him for not explaining why he was saying “no” to a toddler. _Young children will cooperate more if they have an explanation. Zuko is no exception. Explain things to him._

“Once we’ve captured a new ship, I might be able to spend some more time with you. At the very least, you won’t have to hide. I imagine we can find you your own room.” Hakoda forced a smile. “Would you like that?”

“Maybe,” Zuko mumbled. He cocked his head curiously. “We’re capturing a ship?”

“ _You_ aren’t. But the rest of us are. The Fire Nation is sending their Navy to Ba Sing Se, to prevent any early uprisings. The _Akhlut_ stands out. It’s best if we blend in.” Zuko nodded slowly. “I understand if you feel uncomfortable with this, but it’s our only option.” Zuko nodded again.

“Can I…stay in here?” he asked. Hakoda stifled a sigh.

 _He’s a lonely child. He’s always been._ Hakoda nodded.

“If you stay quiet, yes.” Zuko beamed. He walked over to Hakoda and climbed onto the chief’s lap. As Hakoda worked on the plans, Zuko occasionally piped up with a comment about Fire Navy ships. The intermittent inputs became further and further apart. When it had been some time since Zuko last spoke, Hakoda looked down at his lap.

The former Fire Nation Prince had fallen asleep, lulled by the late hour, gentle swaying of the boat, and Hakoda’s body heat.

* * *

They were having another awkwardly silent meal when Toph finally said something she’d had on her mind the minute they all boarded a metal ship, allowing her to “see” again.

“What’s the deal with the kid?” she asked. Hakoda casually set his chopsticks down. To someone who could see, no doubt he appeared untroubled. But to someone who could _see_ , he was nervous. The chief’s heartrate had sped up immediately.

“There are a lot of children on board,” Hakoda said calmly. “Namely, the three of you and Aang.”

“No, there’s someone here even younger than us,” Toph said. “They’re running around on the deck right now.” Katara rose from her seat, presumably to glance out the window that opened onto the deck.

“Toph’s right,” Katara said.

“No need to sound so surprised,” Toph grumbled, pretending to be offended.

“I wasn’t-” Katara huffed. She sat back down. “That looked like a little boy, younger than some of the kids were when we left the village.” Hakoda sighed.

“I was hoping to keep him hidden from you.”

“Why?” Katara asked.

“You shouldn’t be distracted from your current mission.”

 _Lie_.

“Not to mention, he’s rather shy.”

 _Truth_.

“What’s his name?” Toph asked.

“Nuktuk.”

 _Lie_.

“We found him in a mostly destroyed village as we were leaving the South Pole.”

 _Lie_.

“Wait, that’s the kid that I saw in camp that one day,” Sokka said suddenly.

“Yes.”

 _Truth_.

“How old is he?” Katara asked.

“Four,” Hakoda replied. Toph’s eyes widened slightly. That hadn’t felt like a full lie nor a full truth. She settled her expression to be neutral again. “Please don’t seek him out. I know you might want to spend time with him, particularly you, Katara, but like I said, he’s shy. And he’s going through some things.”

“Like what?” Toph asked. She picked up her chopsticks.

“Well, he lost his uncle during the fall of Ba Sing Se. He’s been very upset about it.”

“Poor thing,” Katara murmured. Toph picked at her food idly.

 _Truth_.

* * *

The ocean was boring for a blind earthbender. Toph didn’t spend any time on deck if she could avoid it. Not when sudden gusts of wind might try to blow her away. Their only airbender was out of commission, so it wouldn’t be easy to bring her back.

At the casual reminder of Aang’s state, Toph felt a twinge of sadness. She shook it off, refocusing on her mission. There was a toddler on this ship using a fake name and a fake backstory. Sure, it wasn’t as fun to investigate as the mysteries of Ba Sing Se, but it was better than staring at water she couldn’t see.

Toph made her way belowdeck, past the mess hall and infirmary, finally coming to a stop outside of a small cabin. Inside the room, sitting cross-legged on the floor, was “Nuktuk”. She opened the door. The boy sprang to his feet instantly. A wave of heat washed over Toph. She cocked her head curiously, recognizing the sensation as that of fire.

“That’s why the chief doesn’t want anyone to know about you,” she said calmly. “You’re a firebender.” The boy’s heartrate doubled.

“How- you- but you’re blind!” he finally squeaked. Toph entered the room and closed the doorn ehind her.

“Yeah, but I can still probably see better than you, Sparky.” The boy let out another squeak of protest at the nickname. “Who are you, really?”

“I’m- I’m Nuktuk.”

 _Lie_.

“Who are _you_?” the boy asked. Toph sat on the floor, her feet flush against the metal so she could keep track of the kid’s heartbeat.

“You know what? I’ll tell you the truth if you tell me the truth,” she said. “That seems like a fair trade to me.” The boy wavered. After a moment, he sat across from her. The heat faded, presumably because he had put out whatever flames he’d created.

“How’d you know I lied?” he asked quietly.

“That’s for me to know, not you.”

“Hmph.”

“What’s your real name?” Toph asked again.

“…I can’t tell you.”

“Can’t or don’t want to?”

“The- the second one.”

 _Truth_.

“I’ll tell you the truth now. I’m Toph. Why don’t you want to tell me your real name?”

“Then you’ll know who I am. And that’s embarrassing. Also…you wouldn’t like me.”

 _Truth_.

“All right. Since you told the truth again, here’s another from me. I knew you lied because I’m an earthbender.” The boy huffed quietly, like he didn’t believe her. “Why wouldn’t I like you if I knew who you were? I already figured out that you were a firebender, and I’m not exactly trying to attack you or anything.” The boy stayed silent, but fidgeted slightly. The temperature in the room rose.

_All right, touchy subject. Moving on._

“The Chief said you lost your uncle when Ba Sing Se fell.”

“…Yeah.”

“Was he in the city or something? How’d you know you lost him?”

“People- people saw it happen. And they told other people. And the other people told me.”

“Who? The only people that I know of who were able to escape to the camp were the people on Appa. Appa is-”

“I know who Appa is,” the boy groused.

 _Truth_.

“Well, like I said, only the people on Appa made it to the camp. And none of us would have known some random firebender’s uncle.” Something clicked into place. “Unless…” The boy’s heartrate, which had slowed somewhat, picked up again. “Was your uncle Iroh?”

“No!” the boy blurted out immediately.

 _Lie_.

“Iroh said he had a nephew,” Toph said, thinking out loud. The boy’s heart sped even faster. “I never met his nephew, but Katara and Sokka and Aang did. Apparently, he chased them around the world for a long time, before he disappeared without a trace. The only problem is, they said he was sixteen. How old are you?”

“Four.”

 _Again, that weird “not a full lie, not a full truth” thing._ But the boy seemed to think it was more of a lie than the Chief did. Not to mention, Toph hadn’t met a lot of children, but she felt like someone who was actually four wouldn’t be more eloquent than Sokka.

“…Zuko?” Toph asked quietly. The boy sprung to his feet, his heart beating so fast, Toph was surprised he didn’t keel over then and there.

“How- you-” he spluttered.

“So you _are_ Zuko,” Toph said. The boy – Zuko – stayed standing. “Spirits, what happened to you, if you’re-” Toph made a vague gesture in Zuko’s direction. “-this?”

“You answered it,” Zuko said. He sat down again. “Spirits.” A scowl shone through his irritated tone.

“Spirits turned you into a little kid?”

“Yes.”

“Huh. That stinks,” Toph said casually. Zuko let out a soft snort.

“It does.” He fidgeted. “You- you can’t tell anyone about it, okay? I’ll _die_ if that Water Tribe boy finds out what I’ve been reduced to.”

 _Truth. Man, he is_ really _embarrassed by this._

“Why are you so embarrassed?” Toph asked. “I mean, you didn’t do it. The spirits did it.”

“It’s still- it’s-” Zuko was spluttering again. “You’re what, ten?”

“Twelve.”

“Does the Water Tribe boy treat you like a kid, even though you’re younger than him?”

“No.” Toph grinned viciously. “He knows I’d kick his ass.”

“I don’t have that luxury. He might be a non-bender, but I’m…” Zuko cleared his throat. “I don’t have access to my full abilities currently, and I’m much smaller than usual. Both the Water Tribe children would harass me for it, but the boy would never let me live it down.”

“I getcha.” Toph got up. “No worries, Sparky, your secret’s safe with me.”

“…Really?” Zuko asked. Toph nodded.

“I get it. I’ve been treated like shit for things I can’t control. I’m not about doing that to others.”

“I’ve heard you teasing your teammates,” Zuko said doubtfully.

“Yeah, over things they can control, like their terrible jokes. You can’t control what the spirits did to you. You don’t deserve to be messed with for it. Especially since you seem like a nice enough kid.”

Zuko spluttered again.

Toph grinned. 

“Good luck turning back into a teenager.” Toph headed for the door. Just as she opened it, Zuko mumbled something, quiet enough that she barely heard.

“Thanks.”

* * *

Running footsteps sounded in the hall. Curious, Zuko cracked open the door to his room and peered out. His eyes widened.

The Avatar was awake.

 _And judging by his clumsiness, either disoriented from how long he spent asleep or drunk._ After the Avatar had stumbled out of Zuko’s view, he closed the door again.

* * *

The door to Zuko’s room slowly creaked open. Zuko jumped to his feet, abandoning the Pai Sho board he was practicing with. The intruder blinked at Zuko owlishly.

“…This isn’t my room.”

“No. It’s mine,” Zuko said firmly. The intruder stepped inside. A shiver ran down Zuko’s spine. It was the Avatar. The Avatar approached Zuko and crouched down, smiling warmly at him.

“I didn’t know there was a kid on this ship.”

“I’m not a kid,” Zuko retorted. The Avatar chuckled. The serious, uncertain demeanor he’d had when entering seemed to have lessened.

_Good. It’s weird if he’s not annoyingly upbeat._

“I’m Aang. What’s your name?”

“…Nuktuk.”

“Nuktuk. That’s a really tough name! I bet you’ll be a great Water Tribe warrior someday!” the Avatar said cheerfully. “Why are you on the ship?”

“I…” Zuko looked away. The Avatar let out a soft gasp. Zuko bit back a curse. The shadows in the room must have obscured his scar, only for it to become obvious when he’d turned his head. Surely, the Avatar would figure out who he was.

“Nuktuk, how did you get that scar?” the Avatar asked gently. Zuko looked at him, surprised.

_He…doesn’t recognize me?_

“A…” Zuko fumbled for a response, then remembered his cover story. “A bad man.”

“A bad man,” the Avatar repeated. Zuko nodded. “Is the bad man why you’re on the ship?” Zuko nodded again. “Is your family on the ship?”

“No. The bad man hurt them.” Zuko shrugged. “I’m alone.” The Avatar sat back, horror etched on his face. Zuko worked furiously to control his own facial expression. But rather than horrified, he felt indignant.

 _Really? The Avatar’s own people were killed. Is he actually still moved by the tragedies of war, even after witnessing so many?_ Despite his best attempts to doubt the Avatar’s sincerity, Zuko knew the answer to that question.

The Avatar was deeply affected by every reminder of what war wrought.

“Nuktuk, I’m sorry,” the Avatar said softly. Zuko blinked, startled. “It’s- it’s my fault the bad man hurt you and your family, leaving you all alone. I’m the Avatar. My responsibility is to prevent innocent people from being hurt, especially innocent little kids like you.” The Avatar got to his feet, determination shining in his weary gray eyes. “Don’t worry, I’m going to bring that bad man, and all the other bad men, to justice.”

“Y-you are?” Zuko squeaked.

 _Is a literal twelve-year-old going to confront my father?_ The Avatar nodded.

“I am.” The Avatar managed a small smile. “And just so you know…” The Avatar trailed off. He cleared his throat. “I was the only one left, too. We’ve got that in common. And if we’ve got something in common, then we aren’t really alone.” He ruffled Zuko’s hair. “Good night, Nuktuk.” The Avatar left, closing the door gently behind him.

When Panuk checked on Zuko later, to make sure he’d actually gone to bed, the former prince was still staring silently at the door.

* * *

The Avatar’s allies were saying their goodbyes to the crew during the night. It was the best way to avoid detection. 

For some reason, Zuko had been brought on deck for the farewell, though he had to be woken up. He stood next to Bato, still bleary from sleep, hiding the scarred side of his face behind the crewman’s leg. Even if they saw his scar, it wasn’t likely he’d be recognized, but he didn’t want to risk it.

Toph punched Toklo and Panuk’s shoulders; she had gotten along well with them. The only other thing she did before boarding the Avatar’s sky bison was look in Zuko’s direction. She nodded silently. Zuko returned the gesture, then held himself still as the Water Tribe girl – Katara – walked over to him. She crouched down to his eye-height and gently stroked his hair.

“It was nice to finally meet you, Nuktuk,” she said sweetly. Zuko looked away, part of him reeling with how tender her voice could be.

_Of course, the only other times she’s spoken with me, we weren’t exactly on good terms._

“Don’t worry, we’re going to get the Avatar and help him take down the Fire Lord. You’ll be reunited with your uncle before you know it.”

“…Thanks,” Zuko mumbled into Bato’s leg. Katara’s eyes softened further.

“Katara, come on, stop fussing over the baby,” Sokka shouted from the Avatar’s sky bison. He had made his goodbyes first. Katara stood to her full height and embraced her father.

“Be careful, sweetie,” Hakoda said.

“I’ll do my best.” Katara broke off the hug. “We’ll see you on the Day of Black Sun.” Zuko’s eyes widened.

_The solar eclipse? They know about that?_

“Yes. Remember what I told you.”

“Take care of each other,” Katara intoned solemnly. Hakoda smiled and stroked Katara’s cheek.

“That’s right.”

* * *

Zuko watched the sky bison fly away, an uncomfortable churning in his gut. Without the constant fear of being discovered by the Water Tribe children in the back of his mind, the enormity of his situation came crashing down upon him.

Things had improved for a while, but now? Now, he was back to square one. No, even worse than square one. Uncle wasn’t captured before. There was at least one holdout in the entire Earth Kingdom before. Zuko could pretend the Avatar was continuing his streak of avoiding real harm before.

None of those were true now.

Zuko slowly sat down on the deck, staring at the metal silently.

“Are you all right?” Hakoda asked. Zuko shrugged. “It’s a yes or no answer.” The boy remained silent. Hakoda sighed. “Well, in that case, why don’t you-”

“We know about the solar eclipse,” Zuko blurted out. The crew, which had begun to resume regular duties after the bison’s departure, froze. Hakoda crouched next to Zuko.

“By ‘we’, you mean…”

“The Fire Nation.” Someone swore softly. “Of course the Fire Nation knows about the solar eclipse! _Firebenders_ have a vested interest in their ability to _firebend_!”

“Zuko.” Zuko looked up at Hakoda. “Thank you for telling me this.”

“You’re welcome,” Zuko mumbled. Hakoda got to his feet.

“We’ll need to send a bird immediately to our allies. If the Fire Nation knows about the eclipse, they’ll have prepared for it.” Hakoda looked at Zuko. “Right?” Zuko nodded.

“This is going to mess up our plans,” Bato said. Hakoda grinned.

“No, it’s going to make them better.”

“We don’t know what the Fire Nation’s preparations will be like,” Tuluk argued.

“ _We_ don’t.” Hakoda looked at Zuko again. “But we’ve got someone on board who does.”

“I don’t know if the kid’s willing to turn against his people,” Aake rumbled. Zuko crossed his arms.

“ _The kid_ is right here,” he snapped. Aake raised an eyebrow.

“Are you willing to turn against your people?” he asked. The churning in Zuko’s stomach amplified.

 _My people._ Yue had told him not to turn his back on his people. But if he told the crew how the Fire Nation prepared for the eclipse, he would be doing just that. _Although…would I?_ His people weren’t just the Fire Nation anymore. He’d been helped by all the nations. Even the Avatar had promised to bring justice to those who had hurt him.

Zuko touched his scar.

He thought of the 41st Division, the soldiers sent to their deaths as canon fodder. Surely, ending the war wouldn’t help just the Water Tribes and Earth Kingdom. The people of the Fire Nation were suffering, too.

Zuko’s hand fell from his face. The churning in his stomach quieted. He looked up at Hakoda, his eyes meeting the Chief’s squarely.

“I’m not turning against my people,” he said. “I’m doing my part to end a war that has hurt us all. I’ll tell you everything I know.” A proud smile slowly spread across Hakoda’s face.

“Thank you, son.”

_…Son?_

“You can tell me in the morning. For now, you should go back to sleep,” Hakoda said. Zuko nodded as tiredness abruptly hit him over the head. He allowed Kustaa to lead him to the infirmary, where his furs were waiting.

The full moon shining down brightened. Just a bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof, I meant to finish and post this chapter last week. But I had some difficulty writing up some of the scenes. Sorry for the wait. But hey, the Gaang's finally made an appearance, _and_ this chapter is almost 6k words. Which is quite a hefty chapter for me. 
> 
> (Also...can you tell that Toph is my favorite?)
> 
> No promises on when the next, final chapter goes up. I don't even know for sure what the title of it will be. But I'm very excited for it. Hopefully you, dear reader, will be as well.
> 
> As always, if you have any questions or comments, leave them below or message me at thelastspeecher.tumblr.com.


End file.
